Ex Animo: From the heart
by lifeofla-silverwolf
Summary: SEQUEL to Everything is Relative. The Brotherhood are with the XMen, due to the deterioration of Lance's health, but this brings new subjects to light, and adjusting to the new life style proves to be less than easy, despite good intentions all around.
1. Chapter 1 Always & Forever

**Chapter 1. Always & Forever.**

"Pietro, I swear if you make me try on one more-"

"Come on, where's your Halloween spirit? It's only your third costume." The white-haired teen failed to be affected by his friend's growl.

"Pietro, I don't **like** Halloween," he stated through clenched teeth.

"Oh you're just saying that. Now, what about the one you just tried on."

"Pietro... It has **pink** in it."

"Real men can handle pink, Lance. Besides, it barely has any!"

"...Pietro..."

At the growl, Pietro rolled his eyes, but backed down. "Okay, okay! That's out of the run."

"What about the one on the left?" Tabitha suggested from the side, having been watching from the bed, trying not to chuckle too much at the scene in front of her. "You know, Lancey, there are only five choices, you might as pick one already. You're taking so much longer than Freddy and Froggy, and they only had three choices each."

"See, I knew Lance would be the pickiest," Pietro stated. "If I hadn't made the extra two, he'd be whining even more than he is now."

"I am not whining. Pietro, don't you have anything that doesn't have... frilly stuff?"

"It gives it an elegant texture!"

"Well 'elegant texture' or not, I'm not wearing it. It wouldn't work on me anyway, it's too..."

"If you say 'girly', 'un-macho', or anything else to that effect, I'm going to punch you, Lance."

"I was going to say rich-looking."

"It's a Halloween costume! I'm not telling you to wear it everyday! Come on, Blob and Toad already have costumes, it's only us three that's left!"

"Oh no Quickie, I'm staying out of this obsessive-compulsive perfectionist deal of yours."

"Come on, I'm pretty sure this is my favorite holiday! Humor me, will you two?"

"I'll never understand why you like Halloween so much," Lance muttered, but grudgingly snatched up the bundle of cloth that Pietro was holding out for him.

"Oh come on Lance, you know," Tabitha murmured to herself with a small grin, as she made her way to the door while Pietro was distracted. "It was her favorite holiday," she mused as she closed the door- once safely out, she proceeded with a "I'm going to work! See you later Pietro!" and quickly closed the door before she could hear his protests.

* * *

Three weeks. Three weeks had passed. And they still hadn't left.

She of course, had no objections. Knowing the truth, she couldn't possibly have any. She'd more than willingly become a full-fledged X-Man if it meant helping Lance. Not that such a thing had been demanded.

After the first week, the leader of said X-Men had called the entire Brotherhood together and clearly stated that they were welcome to stay longer, and that he hoped they would.

Pietro, always the skeptic- though she had to admit her family of five, including her, was more than prone to great amounts of skepticism and pessimism- had demanded the catch. But there had been none.

"I do not expect or want you to become X-Men, Mr. Maximoff. You are the Brotherhood, and I respect that. I will not impose membership upon you, nor will I recommend it at this point."

And that had been all.

Tabitha had been quick to take the offer, knowing that Lance would be hesitant and the rest of her family was still caught up in what the telepath could be wanting from them. They still didn't know what was going on, and neither she nor Lance had any desire to tell them. They knew more then well that it would do far more harm than good.

She walked down the hall, expertly avoiding the areas- and people- she didn't feel up to visiting. She knew that Fred and Todd would probably be with the New Recruits- they had begun to spend more and more time with the group. Frankly, Tabitha thought it a good thing- Pietro wouldn't be talking without need to any X-wearer any time soon, she knew, but Fred and Todd were a different story. They seemed to like the new companionship, as well as the easy acceptance that came from the eight less experienced X-Mutants. The eight had accepted Lance without problems during his stay at the Institute, and had none now, with any of the Brotherhood.

As a matter of fact, they had been attempting to get her back into the circle since her 'return', though she had managed to keep that subject under the carpet for now- she didn't quite feel like creating tension by stating that she'd never leave the Brotherhood, just when things seemed to be getting along. And though this reason came second, it also had strong points- she didn't want to let them down like that, not when they had been one of the firsts to accept her willingly. Even if they didn't know her, she hadn't had much trouble hanging out with them occasionally, especially in the case of Amara. Ray she had talked with a couple times, despite his aloofness compared to the rest of the group, and their 'rebel streaks' had made it easier for them to get along. Roberto's unstable relationship with his father she knew of, though he barely skimmed the topic- she could tell, as only one with experience in the same area could. Rahne, Bobby, Jubilee, Sam, and Jamie had little trouble being friendly with anyone, enough that she had been a little skeptical of their intentions at first. It was a while before she had realized that they had no ulterior motives for talking to her than trying to get to know her. None of the eight really knew her, much less truly understood her, but she never expected that from anyone. Though being homeless had been the most decisive factor, their presence had played a part in her temporary stay at the mansion.

In any case, Lance, and even Pietro- they were only the 'Mini-X-Geeks' after all- had expressed it quite clearly to the two that they had no problems with their friends' acquaintanceship with the eight, and needless to say, Tabitha had been in agreement.

She wasn't as sure about their time with Beast however. Not because she was more wary of the other mutant than the norm, but more because he wasn't quite a teenager, and thus she believed would have more to do than hang out with two. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate his help in Todd and Fred getting more relaxed at the mansion- that she was glad to see- but the cynic in her demanded answers to **why** he would be. She didn't like the idea of someone analyzing her or her family, and deciding what to do with or to them. But as the man had not shown any sort of aggression, she didn't say anything or express any of her skepticism.

"Hey, Boomer- watch where you're going, kid."

"I am, Badger," Tabitha replied with a casual shrug, brushing off the fact that she had nearly walked into the other. "Oh, if you see Pietro, don't tell him I went this way, okay?"

And without even giving him time to respond, she had gone off.  
Logan was more than aware of the fact that she was avoiding him. In fact, she had been avoiding everyone since the time they had talked outside... though if that could be called a conversation, Logan had doubts on.

Even Lance wasn't trying this hard to avoid them. And that kid was trying.

Logan had no idea what was going on in those two's minds, but from what Charles occasionally picked up, he didn't want to. Then again, that could be the reason for his current status of being avoided like the plague by the two teens. Not that they weren't walking entire halls around to miss passing Charles's office or walking out of rooms Ororo and Hank entered. But it was worse with him, he knew- at least for Lance. Tabitha, though subtle in her actions, seemed to take great care not to be left alone in the same room with **anyone**.

Fortunately, Hank had apparently had some kind of a breakthrough, and Todd and Fred were dropping in his office every now and then, besides talking to the other kids often- none of the main team members of course, but still they talked.

Then again- not that he was happy or relieved about it- Ororo and Charles weren't doing much better him.

Needless to say, Tabitha was impossible to get a hold of. But same was the case with Pietro- the teen seemed determined to not let Ororo even get within ten feet of him.

Considering that however, she had achieved a lot, since she had managed to get close enough to him for a few short conversations still.

And despite Lance's avoidance of him, it hadn't been hard to spot him in the corner of the garage when Logan was working on his bike. Lance never spoke to him, never did more than watch (in many occasions, he hadn't even seemed to realize that he had been noticed), but he watched Logan with more interest than the older man had ever seen him in an activity.

Of course, the teen always rushed out the moment he thought he had been noticed or offensive with his watching, and never stuck around when he thought Logan was in a bad mood; but still, he came back at other times.

In fact, it was Tabitha who seemed least at ease in the mansion, despite the fact that she was most familiar with its life style. Or maybe that was it. Then again, was she all that familiar with it?

* * *

"So, have you thought about doing anything for the Halloween party?"

"Well... we were just talking to Jubilee and Bobby, and they wanted us to help with the decorating," Fred shrugged uncertainly.

"On account of how Fred's taller than any of them and I can jump up places and stuff," Todd explained.

"That would be nice," Hank nodded.

This was the third talk they were having that week, and it was only Thursday. Todd and Fred were still hesitant to talk to him, but they were now more willing to do so, and today they had come without his seeking them out. There was significant progress, but Hank couldn't take all the credit himself- without Ray, Roberto, Rahne, Jubilee, Bobby, Amara, Sam and Jamie enthusiastically trying to get to know the Brotherhood, he doubted that he would have such good and quick results. It was unfortunate that their attempts did not reach Pietro, Lance or Tabitha, but having at least two people adjusting more easily was a welcome situation.

Halloween was coming up in the following week, and the entire mansion was excited about it. Even the Brotherhood had set to getting costumes- well, Pietro had insisted that they all have costumes and had assembled a variety of outfits for them. Hank hadn't known before that the speedster teen was capable of sewing, especially that quickly and efficiently.

In any case, the Brotherhood having costumes meant their participation, however limited it may be, in the Halloween party. Unexpectedly, it had been initiated by Pietro, but it was hardly a disappointment as much as a cause to toast, as Pietro had been- and still continued to be- openly least interested in friendliness with the X-Men.

* * *

"Damn it Pietro... how'd you talk me into this," Lance muttered, shoving his now-decided-upon costume into one of the drawers in the room that he and Todd shared.

The knocking at his door made him turn, unconsciously taking a step back before he went to answer it a second later.

"Yeah? Oh, hey Kitty," he wondered if she noticed the suddenly higher tone of his voice, and tried to sound more natural.

"Hi Lance. I was wondering, if you'd, like..." she hesitated for a second, still shy about the idea, "Well, if you'd, like, be my date for the Halloween party. It's not really a date party, but I, like, thought that maybe it would be, well, fun?"

He didn't say anything for a full thirty seconds, just staring at her. She looked away, feeling embarrassed.

"Well, if you don't want to-"

"No! I- didn't I say 'Great'?"

"...No?"

"Oh. Um, great," Lance mumbled, belatedly. "That would rock. I mean, um, yeah."

She smiled, and he never understood how her smiles could have such health (and pride) restoring powers. "Great. I'll see you later- I promised to help Rogue with her costume- she's, like, impossible to convince to dress up unless I promise to help."

Nodding, then watching her as she walked off with a wave, Lance suddenly realized that he was beginning to share Pietro's views on the upcoming holiday- Halloween was a good day.


	2. Chapter 2 Basic rules of social conduct

**Chapter 2. Basic rules of social conduct.**

"Gonna be back late- eat dinner without me!" Tabitha announced as she snatched Pietro's wallet from his back pocket.

"Don't **do** that!" the speedster snapped. "Just **ask** me for it!"

"But where would the fun be in that?" she replied without qualms. "And you're so cute when you're embarrassed. I'm borrowing back the ten bucks I lent you last week! Plus five!"

"Why?" he asked as she tossed the wallet back to him.

"Need make-up," she flashed a grin as she headed for the door. "Don't get the paycheck until next week- Lancey, I'll pay you back then with my share!"

"Why're you going to be late? When are you going to be done?" Pietro yelled after her.

"Was late yesterday- gotta make up the time! Around seven!" Tabby replied as she closed the door after her.

Lance watched as she did, waving back but unable to hide the concern in his eyes. None of this, he liked. He had agreed after a long debate when Tabitha had wanted to take the single job that he hadn't gotten fired from, at her winning argument that she had been looking for some job experience anyway and this one would treat her better than most. Not to mention give him time to rest and give her something to do, even if it would try her patience to stick to the job- something she insisted he knew as well as she did that she needed.

If it had been Pietro, he would have let him go more easily. But Tabitha, he was more reluctant about. Not because he thought she'd be worse at the job- any job that he could pass in, he was sure both Tabitha and Pietro would be better at, especially a job that required more brains than brawn, like this one.

It was because she knew about his... his present situation. She hadn't said anything about it since that day, but... he was sure it was troubling her. He was sure, that if she wasn't so good with make-up, that he'd be able to see dark circles under her eyes, because he was positive she got far too little sleep since, even more so than before. He was beginning to wonder if she got any lately.

* * *

Todd was beginning to think that discussing costumes with Roberto and Rahne was not the best of ideas. He and Fred had run into the two in the hall, on their way to the kitchen, and had told them about their costumes, which turned the conversation into thinking up ideas for the costumes of Roberto and Rahne.

And five minutes into the conversation, the topic of superheroes and supervillains had come up. And Rahne had suggested that she and Roberto go as Catwoman and Batman. Which started Roberto on a slight tangent about the under-appreciated superhero Batman and his thoughts on heroes and villains in general.

"Tae be honest wi' ye, Roberto," Rahne started, "I wasnae thinkin' abit that. Ah jist thought it'd be ironic an' funny fur me tae be Catwoman."

"Well, you're right. But since we're kind of like heroes in training, it's kind of cool in that angle too. I mean, superheroes are all about justice and protecting the innocent. And we're learning to help others with our powers too. Saving people and all that- being the good guys."

And it wasn't going in a direction Todd liked.

Glancing at Fred, who seemed less and less happy with the topic, though it wasn't visible to anyone but Todd yet, the younger brotherhood member decided that it was time to cut the conversation short.

"Great- go for that, yo. We gotta run, we'll see you later."

"Oh, sure. Thanks for the help," Roberto nodded as he and Rahne walked on.

When they were out of earshot, Todd turned to Fred. "Freddy, you all right yo?"

"Huh? Sure man."

"You sure? No offense, but you look kinda..."

"It's all right. It's just... well, you know."

"...Yeah. You wanna just head back to our rooms yo?"

"Nah. Let's go get something to eat."

* * *

"No, I don't have a minute."

"Pietro..."

He swerved around to glare at her.  
"That'd be my name, yeah."

Her face was gentle, free of the anger he still half-expected to be met with.  
"Why do you isolate yourself?"

"You mean 'try to'. Because I'm obviously not succeeding right now."

"And why do you try?"

"Because just saying 'No, I don't want to talk to you.' doesn't seem to work anymore."

She was silent then, and he wasn't sure if she was offended or mad. Actually, he thought he saw a bit of hurt in her eyes. He didn't get it though, and as such, pushed it out of his mind.  
"So, are you going to leave me alone or what?"

His brain told him not to try her- it wouldn't be long before her anger would get the best of her and she'd resort to violence. He had come to expect it now, but that didn't mean he was going to back down before anything even happened. Yet he couldn't curb his emotions, even expecting punishment.

But her expression did not change, and no rage surfaced still.

He didn't get it. And not getting it drove him up the wall.

"Look, just stop trying! I'm not going to change- nothing is. I'm part of the Brotherhood, and I always will be. I don't need you X-Men trying to 'talk to me', 'understand me' or 'help me'."

* * *

They walked into the kitchen and found that it was already occupied- not a big surprise considering the number of people that resided in the mansion.

"Hey Ray," Todd greeted, to which the other nodded.

"Hey guys," he said between bites of his sandwich. "Oh, Jubes asked me to ask you guys if you wanted to go shopping for decorations and costumes too."

"Oh- we already have costumes," Todd glanced at Fred.

"But we could help with getting the decorations if you have the room for us- who else is going?" Fred asked.

"Don't know," Ray shrugged. "Not going, so I didn't ask."

"You're not?" Todd looked up from the refrigerator as he got two cans of soda.

"No- not my thing. Besides, I'm not helping with the decorations, and I don't dress up on Halloween, so there's no point in me going."

"You're not dressing up?" Fred echoed as he grabbed two bags of chips.

"No- also not my thing. Never done it before, and I don't really feel like trying now."

"Uh-huh," Fred nodded as he and Todd sat down next to Ray. "I guess," he shrugged. He watched the electrokinetic teen for a moment, feeling somewhat strange. Ray, they had spent the least amount of time talking to, even as they were getting to know everyone. He was usually present in the group during a good part of the early evening, but he did not necessarily make it a daily thing as the rest of the new recruits. And besides playing the big games that everyone took part in, he had a tendency to disappear out of the social events. Considering that, he really got into a lot more arguments than one would expect- especially with Roberto, as the two were easily the most hot-tempered ones out of their group. And yet, Ray wasn't exactly offensive, or meant to and tried to be, anyhow.

...Fred wasn't sure why, but after a moment, he spoke, his quieter tone a contrast to the abruptness of the sudden question.  
"Do you think we're the bad guys?"

* * *

Again. He was just standing there, watching him.  
Just standing there. Watching him.  
It was time to find out what this was about.

"Hey Shakedown, c'mere."

He looked up at that, a bit surprised at being called on. The tiniest traces of fear emerged in his eyes as he cautiously walked over, dropping his gaze downwards.

"You've been hanging around here a lot."

He didn't answer for a full ten seconds, and only a quiet "I'm sorry." followed the moment of silence.

"Don't be. I don't mind. But I do want to know why."

"...I just wanted to watch..."

"Watch? I'm just-" then it dawned on him. "Ya want to help me with this?"

He almost looked up at that. "Wolverine sir?"

Logan smirked a bit at noticing the fear being overtaken by uncertain hope. "How much do you know about bikes?"

* * *

The answer wasn't what they expected, nor did it come with any hesitation, as they had also expected.

"Can't say, I don't really believe in the good/bad guy thing."

"...What do you mean?"

"That's it. I don't. Not much else to it. The world isn't black and white like that. If it were, things would be a lot easier though. But I don't think the world would be better. I think I'd hate a black and white world more."

His answer stunned them. Completely and utterly.

Finally, Fred found his voice again.

"...You're not like everyone else here."

Ray's gaze turned away at that.  
"...I'm not... I was a Morlock. I'll never be like everyone else here."

* * *

"Smith, are you sleeping on my time!"

She jerked up from the desk at that. "Wouldn't dream of it, boss."

He gave her a hard look, to which she grinned innocently.

"I'm just finishing up these calculations- see?" she held up the papers to provide proof of her words.

She knew she was pushing it- this was the fourth time she been caught sleeping, and it was only her second week on the job. And Lance's boss- well, her boss now- had been nice enough to give them a week off before she had started, at that. She was pushing it.

She avoided his continued gaze by turning back to the papers and scribbling down the appropriate answers to the calculations, moving down the page quicker than she would ever for homework (that is, when and if she did it).

"Okay, all done with this," she declared, stifling a yawn, getting up from the desk and heading for the filing cabinets. As she put away the calculations for the past week and reached for the current week's sheets, her boss cleared his voice.

"How's Alvers doing?"

* * *

"You were a Morlock?" Todd echoed.

"For a while," Ray shrugged, dismissing the topic as uninteresting. "It's not that big a deal. I was with them before I came here."

"Whoa, wait a second yo. That mean you ain't got no family neither?"

"...Not by blood. But do **you** think blood really matters?"

"...I guess not all the time," Todd answered, a bit hesitantly. He and Fred had better relations... well, had, better relations with their blood parents, but they knew they couldn't say the same for Lance, Pietro and Tabitha.

Ray raised an eyebrow, noticing the faltering. "What, you had good parents?"

"...I guess, yo. My folks were all right, when they were still around."

"...Sorry."

"Doesn't matter. Over it now."

"...Still." For a second he paused, staring at a spot on the table. "...I guess I just thought you guys were kind of like me too. Whatever," Ray grabbed the now-empty plate from the table and headed for the sink. "See you guys later."

And by the way he said the four words, they could tell they had offended him in some way he knew they hadn't meant to, yet hurt all the same. Briefly Todd wondered if Ray had chosen to tell the other X-Men about his past, and just as the realization that it wasn't likely hit, Fred spoke from next to him.

"How like are you to us?"

* * *

How much did he know... He wasn't sure what to say. While Lance was pretty sure fixing bikes and cars was one of the few things he actually knew how to do right, and maybe even kind of well, he definitely did not want to exaggerate and suffer the outcomes of being boastful.

"A little, sir," he answered.

"Well let's see what you can do," Logan stepped back to let him move closer to the bike.

"...I don't want to bother you, Wolverine."

"Yer not bothering me. C'mere and you can show me how much of this you know."

Lance hesitated, but walked up, cautiously daring to gaze at the motorcycle that he had been sneaking glances at for three weeks now. He still didn't touch the motorcycle however, the fear that this was just a trick not gone in him yet.

Logan was not known for his patience. He knew that, and he was pretty sure everyone else did too. But right now, he would spend a few more minutes talking if it was what was needed.  
"Listen Shakedown. No one- and I mean no one- touches my bike but me."  
He definitely drew back at that, his gaze falling, but Logan wasn't finished.  
"But I'm changing that rule to riding. So, absolutely no one except me takes my ride out. Now, ya want to show me what ya know, or am I gonna have to ask again and wait longer?"

He glanced up the slightest bit, and after another second of hesitation, tentatively put a light hand on the motorcycle. When no rebuke came, he turned to Logan- the older man merely handed him the toolbox.

* * *

"Pietro? What are yah doing in here alone?"

"Devising a cure to the common cold; can't you tell?"

"Haha," she didn't hesitate in rolling her eyes.

"I was bored, so I was reading. This **is** a library. What are you doing in here, Roguey?"

"Ah was trying tah escape from Kitty's horrible costume ideas."

"Ohh?"

"She wants me tah be doing some weird pair costume or something with her. She's been trying tah convince me since yesterday. Ah knew it would be a bad idea tah agree tah this Halloween costume thing."

"Hey don't look at me to hide you- I'm trying to get Tabby in a costume."

"All y'all are alike," Rogue grumbled, crossing her arms. "Ah'm just glad we're having a party here, so she won't want to drag me tah the awful school one. What were yah reading?"

"Stuff. Just grabbed books I thought I hadn't read before."

"Uh-huh. Yah gonna stop being vague any time soon or-"

"Rogue! There you are! I was like, totally looking for you."

"Looks like your hiding place wasn't such a good choice," Pietro commented, a bit too cheerfully for Rogue's likings. Smacking him lightly on the arm as he left, Rogue turned to face whatever horrors would await her by rejoining Kitty's company.

* * *

"What do you mean, how like am I to you?" Ray arched an eyebrow.

"Well, find out," Fred stated. He paused, not quite sure if he truly wanted to go on with the story. But another glance at the other teen and he continued. "My parents... My parents fought the good fight. They stood up for justice. They were the good guys. Police. Always working hard. Always protecting other people," his gaze did not fall as he spoke, but his eyes did get a distant look in them. It had been so long since he last thought about them. He tried not to think about them too much. And the last time he had told anyone about this was to the Brotherhood. In fact, Ray was hearing the second time he had ever told anyone.

"...And where did it get them? They were shot by a couple of robbers. It doesn't matter if you're good or bad."  
The bitterness, he didn't know when it had sprung.  
"There's no reason to fight for something you don't believe in, something you can't believe in. And there's no reason to protect the people that hate you. All that matters is looking out for your own survival."

His eyes focused back on Ray, and the X-Teen found himself staring, despite all efforts to not, as the shadow that had been cast over the Brotherhood teen slowly fell back once more.

"And that's my world. Not black and white, and never will be."

* * *

"How's Alvers doing?"

She turned. She pondered what to say, but the conflict didn't show on her face.  
Her eyes studied his for a second before she replied.  
"He's resting."

"How'd he break his leg again?"

"Fell down the stairs."

"And you're his-"

"Sister."

"But your last name is Smith, and you're adoptive siblings," he recalled the information they had first provided him with.

"Yeah." Her answer was flat, and she matched his gaze with hers.

For a minute neither spoke, then he cracked into a slight grin. "Well Miss Smith, tell Lance to get better soon- even if his sister falls asleep just as much as he does, she's getting a bit more done, and this goes on, I might have to hire both of you after he comes back."

She decided to grin back.

* * *

"Do you know yet?"

"Not quite as much as I'd like."

"You X-Ge- X-Men are so slow," he muttered.

"Pietro, this takes time."

"Yeah- too much of it."

"Be patient. I'm still monitoring Lance's condition, and I have to take that into consideration."

"Well that's all fine, but when the hell are you going to tell me if it's all right for Lance to go back to school again? And when can he lose the cast? 'Cause it's pointless to take him to school with that stupid thing on."

"I'll tell both you and Lance what I find out- as soon as I do find out."

"Yeah, if I haven't died of old age by then," he grumbled, but relented, holding off more aggravated commentary. "I'll come back later. I was going to go pick up Tabby in twenty anyway."

* * *

"...All right, we have more in common than we thought." Ray stated. "...Just keep this between us, all right? Only Roberto knows about... the Morlocks and me. I don't think it'd be a good idea to spring this kind of stuff on anyone else."

"So Roberto's cool after hearing stuff like this?" Fred asked.

"...Not really. But I slipped and told him. Anyhow, I gotta go do homework- Ororo and Hank have been on my case 'cause I missed the last couple days' assignments."

"You miss homework too?" Todd raised an eyebrow. "But you're an X-Geek! Um, well, I mean- you are. Kinda. Sorta. You still are, I mean."

"...Yeah. I am. So, I'll catch you guys at dinner."

They watched him leave with a wave, and they couldn't have identified the strange feeling that they were experiencing for their lives. It wasn't sadness. It wasn't loneliness. It wasn't fear. It wasn't anger. It wasn't... they didn't know what else it wasn't.

These X-Geeks just kept making things more complicated.

* * *

"Pietro, you going to let me back- **what** have you been doing?"

"Makin' a costume," Pietro replied, pins between his teeth.

"I thought you finished all our costumes already," Lance leaned against the desk, but the speedster smacked him away from the desk with the hand that was not holding cloth.

"Don't lean; you're gonna make me loose pins and stuff," he reproached.

The brunette complied, instead leaning against the wall. "So, why are you making yet another costume?"

"For Tabby," the white-haired teen replied.

"This the same Tabby that distinctly told you she was not going to dress up for Halloween?"

"Shut up. She'll like this."

"Was this why you kicked me out of the room?"

"Yeah."

"I see. And have Todd and Fred come back, only to have you kick them out too?"

"They're still out around somewhere. Fred must be really hungry or something," Pietro mumbled as he took some new thread for the needle. "Or maybe they're talking to some of those Mini-X-Geeks."

"Here," Lance took the needle and thread from him, seeing that it was annoying the teen to try and thread the needle while holding onto his work. "So, what is this?" he asked as he attempted to convince the thin thread to go through the needle eye.

"You pathetically trying to thread a needle, with no success."

"I meant the costume."

"Oh. Secret. Can't tell you. Would ruin the surprise."

"I see."

"Oh gimme that," Pietro snapped, taking the thread and needle back. "You suck at sewing, don't you remember?"

"I do now," Lance looked at the work in progress, studying it for a moment as he tried to figure out its identity. Not getting any clues, he decided to move on. "Is this what you've been doing all afternoon?"

"No. Would **not** take me that long," Pietro replied."I was working on it after Tabby went to work-"

"And you kicked me out."

"-And I kicked one certain annoying person, who shall remain nameless, out. But then I wanted to look something up, so I had to go to the library. I got back about ten minutes ago, and I was bored so I decided to work on it before I go pick up Tabby." Pietro didn't bother adding that he had run into Ororo in the library, nor that the confrontation had gotten to him enough that he had immersed himself with books for two hours to get it out of his mind, before checking on Hank.

"You're picking her up?"

"I like surprises."

"And if she's not finished yet?"

"I'll wait. Or come back. And then go again. I've only got time, Lance."

* * *

"Seven o'clock, Smith! You're free!"

She chuckled at his words, putting in the last of the papers in the designated file. "On my way out! See ya tomorrow!" She turned for the back door just in time to see Pietro enter through it.  
"Pietro! What are you doing here?"

"Picking you up, of course!"

"And... why?"

"What, I can't be nice once in a while?"

"Hm... let me think about that."

"Oh shut up before I leave you and go back by myself." Pietro crossed his arms.

"You should. I gotta go get some make-up. I told you to eat dinner without me-"

"Someone there?"

"Not really, boss!"

He walked in from the front office and it took him half a second to notice Pietro standing there.  
"And who is this?"

"This is Pietro. Who, by the way, was not supposed to be here."

"Pietro? Miss Smith, is this gentleman your boyfriend?"

Tabitha and Pietro were speechless for a second, until they burst out in laughter for a full thirty seconds.  
"Boss, this is my brother."

"Oh? Another one? Alvers never told me about you kids. Nice to meet you, Pietro... Smith? Alvers?"

"My younger, also adoptive brother."

"Maximoff. Pietro Maximoff," Pietro added.

"Ah. I see. Nice to meet you, Pietro Maximoff. Going home then, Smith?"

"Yeah," she nodded as she pulled Pietro along towards the door. "See ya tomorrow."

"Get some sleep tonight, Smith!"

"Got'cha!" She closed the door behind her.

They walked at normal pace for a few tens of seconds.

"He's not too bad," Pietro stated.

"He's all right. Doesn't say anything bad about Lance, and asks how he is and stuff."

"I have just one question."

"Hm?"

"Why am I your younger brother? We're the same age!"

"Because you're the crazy neurotic egotistical one, while I'm just the crazy one."

"Oh you're hilarious."


	3. Chapter 3 Count on me

**Chapter 3. Count on me.**

The mansion was livelier than usual. Festive, the mood was.

It was, after all, Halloween.

* * *

"I can't believe Halloween fell on a Saturday this year," Bobby complained.

"Does it really make a difference?" Sam shrugged.

"Of course! Well... not really. But doing a danger room session on Halloween morning is just not right."

"Everyone else has it in the afternoon- that's worse," Jubilee commented.

"Yeah," Bobby agreed. "Point taken."

"Geez, thanks yo," Todd replied. "We gotta go to that afternoon session."

"It's a few hours before the party. It shouldn't be that bad a timing," Sam attempted some consolation.

"Besides, you guys got to sleep in this morning," Jubilee pointed out.

"Yeah, except I'm still saying that waking up before twelve is not 'sleeping in'," Todd stated.

"Well I was hungry. We were all already awake besides you anyway. Pietro said he was going to finish Tabby's surprise costume before he picked her up from work, and Lance said he wanted to hang out with Kitty," Fred argued as he entered with a pizza. "Besides, you don't like being ditched for lunch."

"I don't mind on weekends yo," Todd said. "Doesn't matter though; I'm hungry, let's eat." Accustomed to Fred's cooking, he noted the distinct lack of a certain ingredients when the occasion rose. "No mushrooms, Freddy?"

"I couldn't find them- I think Storm used them all yesterday," Fred answered as he set the pizza down on the table after Jubilee had gotten some plates and cups, while Bobby brought the soda.

"You know what, having someone that can cook is awesome- I mean, I have nothing against frozen pizza, but this is just so much better," Sam stated.

"Yeah, Freddy's our official cook, yo. 'Course, when Freddy doesn't cook, we have to order take out or get Lance or Tabby to do it. I can't cook for my life, yo. And Pietro's cooking scares me."

"It scares me only when it's bubbling," Fred commented through a bite of pizza.

* * *

"Hey Smith, lunch time."

She didn't turn, instead concentrating on the work at hand. She was getting rather immersed in the work today- well she was trying to be anyhow, after falling asleep as she had yesterday. "All right- when are you coming back?"

"I'm not leaving. I ordered delivery today, so you're unfortunately stuck with me for lunch hour too."

She glanced up for a second, before returning to the papers. "Oh, all right. I was gonna clean up around here during lunch hour, but I can do that after you finish eating," she shrugged.

"After **we** finish eating. I ordered some stuff for you too."

For a second she was taken off guard. "What?" She finally turned, looking at him.

He had a grin on his face that she wasn't quite sure she could identify. Her boss's usual cheerful nature aside, amusement was there, yes, but also hidden traces of sympathy. She didn't usually like sympathy, as it was usually the same as pity, but something about his grin told her that pity wasn't on the menu, just friendliness, and she decided to accept it.

"Lunch, Smith. I ordered some lunch for you too."

"Oh... uh, boss, I'm broke. Kinda why I'm working here, ya know."

"I'm buying."

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want to?"

"Kitty, I'll do it if you want me to, you know, but I already said no when Pietro asked me."

"Well, I just think it might be cute."

"How is that even possible? How in the world would me wearing an eye-patch be classified as 'cute'?"  
"It's not exactly that- well, only that," Kitty answered, stifling her laughter. "I just think it's cute that you're, like, dressing up for Halloween and everything- especially when you don't even like it- because Pietro wanted you guys to."

"You asked me to be your date to the party, so I would've even if Pietro hadn't convinced me," Lance replied. "Convince being a loose interpretation of what happened. And as to being a pirate, which I know you're going to ask me about, I'll just say that it was pretty much the only possible choice that would do least damage to my ego. This was before you asked me to be your date, of course, and I had no idea I wouldn't be paying attention to my costume."

She smiled. "So, Captain Alvers, are you sure your bruised ego wouldn't be damaged further by taking a girl to the party? Even though we'll be the only ones there with a date, do you still want to be mine?"

"Wouldn't have it any other way," he grinned.

* * *

"Ah thought Ah'd find yah here."

"Yeah, seeing as how it's my room."

"It's Lance and Todd's room."

"Same dif."

"What are yah doing?"

"Putting the finishing touches on Tabby's secret surprise costume. What are you doing here?"

"Kitty and Lance are in mah room."

"Your and Pryde's room."

She rolled her eyes, but did not provide a rebuttal. "Ah just wanted tah give them a little space. Where's everyone else?"

"Tabby's at work," he paused to push away something on a thin wire, out of his way of the sewing, and it was then that Rogue noticed the unusual extra features on the costume.

"Whatare yah making for her anyway?"

"Secret. Can't tell," he replied as he attached the last of the buttons to the costume, and after doing so, grinned, thoroughly pleased with his work. "Anyhow, she's at work, and Fred and Todd are having lunch with some of the Mini-X-Geeks."

"Yah don't have tah call us that all the time, yah know," she stated as she sat down on the bed, watching him as he sat by the desk, unmoving except to carefully fold up the costume.

"I call it as I see it, Roguey."

She sighed. "Yah make things impossible, Pietro."

He turned at that.

* * *

"Oh. Boss, you don't have to-"

"Smith, if you make me ask you to join me for lunch one more time, I'm going to make you work overtime."

She chuckled at the grin that he couldn't quite hide, despite trying to act serious. "Okay, but don't think this is gonna make me clean any better."

"Oh I think some Chinese might change that."

"Confident, are you?"

"Chinese take out has never failed me yet." He gave her a grin, and was glad when she returned it.

Something about her... she and Alvers, both. They weren't like the usual teens he encountered.

He hadn't quite realized it before, but he noticed more now that they both never seemed to eat, at least not that he knew of. Even though their work hours easily cut into meal times and he even had the time set aside for lunch- and dinner on weekdays and weekend days with longer shifts- and had told them specifically on their first day that they were allowed to eat any time they wanted as long as they didn't make any messes, they never did.

Of course, Lance had always claimed that he had eaten or would as soon as he got home, and he guessed he hadn't always been lying about it, but nonetheless he had the nagging feeling that many of the times Lance hadn't told the exact truth. And he had noticed that the teen had seemed more and more tired each day- enough that a number of the times he had caught Lance dozing he hadn't called him on it. And Tabitha had fallen asleep a few times already.

He had never known, until Lance had told him of his broken leg and that if it would be all right, his sister would be filling in for him, that the teen had any siblings- especially younger ones. The teen never said much except to answer his questions and take orders; and he himself wasn't the type to go asking.

They were good kids. He knew that. He had first been reluctant to hire Lance, suspecting that the boy would be irresponsible and reckless and wouldn't last a day. But as much as he had fallen asleep, the teen had tried to make up for it, working through breaks, and even when he had left the teen for meals or a brief chore, the teen had not slacked off at all. It was much the same situation with Tabitha; though with the sister of the two it was obvious she was finding it harder to keep to the somewhat repetitive tasks. She was friendlier with him, not disrespectful, exactly, but not nervous with his authority either. But something told him she was just as determined- just as desperate- as Lance had been to keep the job.

Thinking on it, he had the growing feeling that when Lance had first applied for the job, telling him that he really needed it, Lance hadn't been talking about extra cash for the weekends. He had the feeling that these kids really needed the money.

"Order's here, boss," she announced from the front office. A second she paused for, before reiterating. "Um, I wasn't kidding boss, I really am broke."

"I'm getting it, Smith," he replied, heading over to the front as well.

* * *

"And I **told** her she looked **fine** but she like, totally wouldn't listen! So I had to get Jean in on wearing something more, um, daring, too."

"So... you actually got Rogue to agree to dressing up." Disbelief was evident in his voice.

"Yep!"

"And Red-"

"Jean."

"Yeah, her. To dress up in something... um, not conservative."

"Yep!"

"And Rogue actually agreed to this dressing up..."

"Yep!"

"As a saloon girl."

"Yep!"

"And Red- Jean Grey, yeah- is going as..."

"A belly dancer!"

"...Right. And you're sure she agreed to that."

"Yep!"

"And you are going as... as a..."

"Can-can dancer."

"Yeah. That."

"Yep!"

"...And this was all your idea?"

"Yep," she grinned, and he grinned back.

"Miss Katherine Pryde, you take surprise to new levels."

* * *

"What?"

"Never mind. Aren't yah having lunch too?"

"I ate with Lance before Fred and Todd were up and Tabby was already at work. What did you say?"

He could see her hesitating, contemplating her answer before she said it. "...Yah make things more difficult, Pietro. At least, yah are right now."

"What are you talking about," he couldn't stop his voice from dropping low.

"Fred and Todd are trying tah get along with us. And they're succeeding. Even with us- not just the 'mini-X-Geeks', like yah say. After Wednesday's Danger Room session, Kurt was talking to them. And they were talking back."

"So?" he crossed his arms. "Conversation. Big deal."

"Without arguing. Or insulting each other."

"Still not a big deal."

"And then Todd made a joke."

"...Doesn't matter."

"And **both** Fred and Kurt laughed."

"**Doesn't matter**," he bristled.

"Ah admit Scott and Lance aren't the best of friends-"

"Ha! Understate things much?"

"But they're not fighting- if anything they're avoiding each other."

"Big deal. What's your point, Rogue," he glared at her, and she didn't flinch.

"Evan's been trying tah be on better grounds with yah. He just doesn't have tha nerve tah talk tah yah."

"Well screw Daniels."

"Yah have to at least try, Pietro."

"No," he got up. "No, I don't. Not for you. Not for him."

"And for yahself?"

He glared at her before turning to the door. "I'm going to lunch," he stated before leaving- he had enough self-control to not slam the door, but this worried Rogue more.

* * *

"And that, I built that myself too. What do you think?"

She cast a calculating look upon the bookshelf that had been pointed out. "Honestly, boss?" she turned back to him.

"Honestly, Miss Smith."

"I think you have way too much time on your hands."

He chuckled as he finished the last of his chicken lo mein, and she relaxed a bit more. Seeing that he was done, she got up, going to the closet to grab the broom.  
"Boss, I gotta do my job now. I don't want to do overtime because you talked too much and kept me from working during lunch hour. Which, by the way, is now over, and I haven't done anything even remotely useful."

"You're not actually supposed to work during lunch break, Smith- Alvers never seemed to get that either," he replied as he tossed the garbage out and she, with the broom in hand, headed to the front of the building and started sweeping.

"A boss shouldn't say things like that to his employees, boss," she commented, raising her voice just a little so he could still hear her clearly from the back room. "Especially when he has only one assistant and wouldn't have any others to make up the work if the one assistant slacked off."

"Smith, do you always talk about yourself in the third person?"

"She's pretty sure she doesn't," came the answer as she walked through the door. "Done sweeping," she declared as she put the broom back away. "Do you want to open back up or wait until I finish mopping the floor and stuff? I'm probably not going to be able to do it before I leave if I don't do it now."

"I swear, Smith, you have got to be the most hardworking assistant I've ever had, you and Alvers."

Her eyes stared back in a mixture of disbelief, amusement, and hints of pride.  
"Boss, you have no idea how weird that sounds."

* * *

"I missed this."

"Huh?" He turned to look at her, a little confusion in his eyes. "Missed what?"

"Just talking to you. You had so much work lately, we never really got to hang out, and like, talk."

"...I guess. Been a while since I've been at work though."

"Well you can go back after you're better," Kitty replied. "Maybe the ones that fired you will take you back."

"...Yeah."

"And Tabby's holding that good job for you anyway," Kitty added, seeing his expression clouding.

"Yeah."

For a second she studied his features- he had long since looked away, back to staring out the window.  
"...Lance," he turned at her call, and she leaned up to plant a soft kiss on his cheek.  
"I missed **you**."

He was stunned, but when the surprise melted away, he smiled. "I missed you too, pretty Kitty."

They sat together in silence after that, leaning on each other, looking out the window.

* * *

"Hey Pietro!"

He stopped at that, turning around with a calmer expression. "Where have you losers been?"

"Lunch, yo. Fred made pizzas. Man, it's great to have lots of ingredients yo. The X-Geeks got everything. Fred made his best yet."

"Um, I finished them. But I could make you another one if you want, Pietro."

"No, not hungry. You guys seen Lance around?"

"Nope. He missed the pizza too."

"I told you, Todd, they ate before we woke up."

"Still. Hey, Pietro you done with Tabby's costume?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah."

"You still not telling us what it is?" Fred asked as Pietro opened the door to their room.

"Of course not- a surprise is a surprise. Besides, you'll know tonight, in a few hours, anyway."

"In a few hours with a danger room session in the middle of it, yo. Well, not so much in the middle as... um, thirty minutes from now. I can't believe these people have training on holidays too."

"It's not that big a deal," Fred shrugged. "It's only an hour."

"An hour with Daniels," Pietro muttered to himself under his breath, but continued louder in a lighter tone. "Well you're going up against me today, Toad, so it'll be a quick hour to you. Just try not to lag too far behind."

"Funny yo, real funny. Just hope I don't slime your hair."

Pietro gasped- half for real, half in mock shock. "...You wouldn't dare."

Todd grinned. "Oh but I would. I so would."

* * *

The session had been relatively short.

It had been the usual- two teams, mixed formation with both Brotherhood and X-Men. Pietro, Fred, Kurt, Jean and Rogue on the red team; Tabitha, Todd, Evan, Scott, and Kitty on the blue team. The blue team had won, mostly due to the fact that Kurt had needed to teleport Pietro out of the way of Scott's blasts, and during the time Todd had gotten to the red team's flag unnoticed.

After the session Logan and Lance, both of whom had been watching from the controls as usual, came down for the briefing- well, Logan came down for the briefing, while Lance to rejoin his friends.

"Slim- decent round, but use a different formation next time; it's getting repetitive. Half-Pint, go for some offensive moves every now and then. Spyke- aim, kid, aim. Toad- I don't know what you did with your slime to stop the machines, but if it explodes later with slime everywhere, you're cleaning it. Boom Boom- I don't even know what that was; do ya ever aim, bub?"  
Logan paused for a second at the innocent grin Tabitha gave him, too used to it now to even bother with giving her a look. He didn't notice the way her blue eyes clouded after he turned his attention.  
"Elf- you were almost shot down byBoom Boomin the first three minutes- pay attention to the whole scene, not just what's in front of ya. Grey- relying solely on your powers won't always work. Stripes- relying solely on everything but your powers won't always work. Blob- good job with the mechanical claw, but try not to just throw it anywhere after you rip it out of the wall next time. Quicksilver- you could have done something if you had kept your head in the game- pay more attention next time. All right, that's it-"

"**I do not mess everything up!** You're not- you're not my anything! Stop giving me orders! Back off!"

The outburst echoed in the suddenly silent room as the fastest one present tore out the room, leaving the rest entirely baffled.

"...Let's go," Lance glanced at his team. He didn't have to speak twice- the Brotherhood was already on their way to find Pietro.

* * *

They found him easily. He was sitting on top of his bed.

"Sorry about that," he mumbled as they came in.

"What happened, Pietro?" Lance asked as he sat down next to the younger boy.

"Nothing."

"C'mon, Pietro, you can tell us yo," Todd assured as he took a seat on the speedster's other side, while Fred settledfor sitting across from him on his bed, and Tabby dragged the desk's chair up close.

"It's nothing. I just acted like the idiot I am, that's all."

"Pietro, you're not an idiot, and you did not act like one," Tabitha stated. In a softer voice she continued. "Now tell us why you're upset."

"I'm not."

"Pietro, it's all right if you don't want to tell us. But if it's bothering you, maybe telling us will make it better," Lance spoke.

"..." He looked up, staring back at their worried gazes for a full ten seconds before looking away. "It's just... do you guys want me to be friendly with the X-Geeks?"

"Huh?"

"Do you?" Pietro repeated, not looking at Todd's confused expression.

"What are you talking about, Pietro?" Fred asked.

"Do you want me to be friendly with the X-Geeks? If you guys want me to be, I will. I'm the reason we're still awkward with them. I'll be friendly with them if you want me to be."

"...It doesn't matter to us, Pietro," Lance replied. "Just do what you want to do, all right?"

"...I, I don't... I don't want things to change," blue eyes betrayed the fear hidden behind them in a rare turn. "When we leave... what happens then?"

Silently Tabitha brushed his bangs out of his eyes, her slightly lighter, grayer blue worried for him, seeing the fear in his counterpart.

"Does it all change? I don't want anything to change. If one thing changes, the rest of them will too. What we do right now, does it change everything? Can't we just keep things the way they are?"

The question was one they were all wondering.

Todd, Fred did as Pietro was, turning to Lance to hear his answer.

"...No. It won't change." A small smile, Lance found. "We'll still be us."

"We'll still be together, all of us, right?" Todd asked, his eyes still on the eldest of the Brotherhood.

"Yeah. We'll still be together."

"**We ain't never separating, right?**"

"...right."


	4. Chapter 4 Depression Accustomed

**Chapter 4. Depression Accustomed.**

The party was now in full swing.

The Brotherhood members were, however, standing in the middle of the hall, not the party. Indeed, they were presently waiting for Lance to step out of his room, crowded around the door and assuring the oldest teen numerous times of his- and his costume's- 'perfectly fine' status.

"Pietro, did you have to sew the shirt so... tight?"

"It fits fine!" Pietro stated as he tapped his foot impatiently.

"Quickie, tell me you did not make his shirt fit like yours does," Tabitha said as she gave another look at the white, high collared shirt the teen was wearing under a silver vest and unconventionally-cut black jacket ala the fashion of one 'sexy to stellar levels' vampire, as he described himself.

"I didn't! It fits more loosely; he's just whining," Pietro grumbled.

"I am not!" Lance snapped as he stepped out the room, uncomfortably tugging at the collar of his shirt (which wasn't exactly form-fitting, but admittedly closer in fit than Lance was used to). "Todd, Fred, one word and-" he gave a warning glare at the two that were holding back laughter, though mostly at his extreme embarrassment, rather than the actual costume itself.

"We won't," Fred assured, though the fact that he was finding it hard to keep a straight face on was not reassuring Lance in the least.

"Where's your eye patch, yo?" Todd managed to ask without laughing.

"I have the hat on, I am not wearing the damn eye patch. **And** no hooks. Or peg legs. Or whatever else you were thinking up to make this even more embarrassing for me."

"Oh chill out, Lancey. Froggy's in a jester costume that fits tighter than your outfit and Freddy's in a pimp suit. You guys are all in the same boat, even if you are the captain of it," Tabitha remarked.

"Shut up, Miss-I'm-not-wearing-a-costume," Lance muttered. Then the slightest of smirks found its way to his face. "Which reminds me. Pietro, you forgetting anything?"

All the boys shared knowing glances, which the sole sister definitely noticed, but before she could comment on it, Pietro spoke.  
"Of course not! I have to get my fangs, though. You guys can go ahead. Tabby, wait for me?"

"You guys are up to something- spill it."

"Why, I'm hurt that you would even suggest that I have ulterior motives when all I want is your lovely company," Pietro feigned tragic disappointment, and after a brief roll of the eyes, she gave in.

"Fine, I'll bite. Let's go get your fangs," she grinned.

"And you guys yell at me when I say rock puns every once in a while," Lance grumbled.

* * *

"Kitty?" He knocked on the door twice; all the while musing on how much easier it was to see her when they lived in the same building. All thoughts evaporated when the door opened to reveal one Kitty Pryde, leaving him somewhat speechless. 

"Lance, you look so cu- um, I mean tough. And strong. And manly," she stifled her laughter and the urge to say 'cute'.

That broke him out of the temporarily trance. "Thanks for trying. You can laugh now. I know how stupid I look," he rolled his eyes to illustrate the fact, before his gaze settled back on her. "You, on the other hand, look amazing. Um, not that you don't look amazing usually. Because you do. I'm just saying you do today too. And not just because of the more revealing costume. I mean, um, you look great. Can you please say something and shut me up before I make you regret this and hate me?"

"You're totally cute right now." Kitty managed without going past a smile, containing her amusement.

"I was thinking more along the lines of something that wouldn't make me even more embarrassed."

She smiled and took his arm. "I'm very glad you're my date."

* * *

Ten minutes ago, she had been perfectly fine. 

Ten minutes ago, she had been wearing her usual, comfortable, worn-by-choice-not-by-guilt attire.

Eight minutes and thirty seconds ago, Pietro had done the impossible: he had convinced her to wear a costume.

_"So what are you up to," Tabitha asked once more as Pietro opened the door to his room. _

_"Whoever said I was up to anything?" Pietro replied with a grin._

_"Quickie-" She stopped short when she saw the costume on the bed. "Oh no. This is not what I think it is."_

_"What do you think it is?" Pietro asked with the best innocent expression he could hold. _

_"Pietro..."_

_He dropped the attempt at innocence immediately, instead adapting his best puppy eyes- an undefeated champion in all his past situations. "But Taaabby! We're all dressing up. It'd be weird if you didn't!"_

_Despite his 'unbeatable puppy eyes'- which she felt slightly nervous at seeing because she knew it was his hidden card and he only pulled it when he really, really, wanted something- she remained strong. "Pietro."_

_"It's pretty, I swear! It'll look sooo good on you! I spent sooo much time on it! It took me sooo much longer than everyone else's!" He stressed the 'so's so much more than she wanted him to._

_"What, an hour?"_

_"I don't know, I kept being interrupted and I was talking instead of sewing some of the time," he shrugged before reverting back to seriousness- well, seriousness lined with puppy eyes. "But that's not the point!"_

_"Pietro, I told you I didn't want to dress up."_

_"Well so did Lance, but look how... well, not happy, but not raging mad at me he is. Come on Tabby, this is the first actually social thing we're kind of doing with the X-Geeks. We should all do the same thing. We're a team, it's not right for you to be the only one not in costume."_

_She sighed. "Pietro..."_

_"I **know** you don't like Halloween. And I really have no idea why I'm obsessing about this so much, besides the whole 'team' thing, which I **know** you're going to use against me since you 'never do the teamwork thing'- but Tabby!"_

_She sighed again, her subconscious telling her that she was going to give in soon enough, if just to get the hurt look out of his eyes, but she refused to acknowledge it. "...Pietro..."_

_"I made it **just** for **you**. Try it on- please? It'll look great- I know it will. One night. That's all I'm asking- just wear it for one single night. Not even the full night. A few hours. Please? For me?"_

_She found herself facing clear blue eyes that for once were not masked, their intenseness too much for her. She turned away with a sigh. _

_"...Okay."_

_The puppy eyes had won again._

Admittedly, the costume was beautiful. Not because she was wearing it or anything- it just was. It gave her more of a mature look, but simply by bringing out the more serious, deeper blue in her eyes. It was obvious Pietro had made it with the single intention of fitting her- it brought out from her something she hadn't even been aware of having, something she couldn't quite explain, but liked all the same. She kind of wished it had been a more generic costume, however. But generic, it was not. Far from it.

Even with the few purposeful slashes, the silvery wings- margined with the darker tone of black- Pietro had made for her began one costume that was far more elegant than she had ever worn before. An angel, she was not. A fallen one, maybe. Or so she guessed he had thought. Because that's what she was, at least for that night. Fingering the silver and black dress, she sighed quietly.

_"You look perfect! Almost as good as me."_ he had said with a playful grin, pulling her out the room. _"And I don't mean because I made it- you make it look perfect."_

He had said it with such conviction that she had almost believed she looked half-way decent. Within the next five seconds however, the awkwardness had returned, and she had resorted to insisting that she needed to change her make-up to fit the costume, and had retreated to her room. Not before promising Pietro to be out in the next fifteen minutes, however. And knowing Pietro, he'd probably keep track of the time. To the exact second.

* * *

"I know, I know. Read the shirt," Ray stated before they could even get a word in. 

So they did.

"I know I suck?" Todd read out loud.

"Yeah- no costume."

"At least you know,"Amara teased.

"Yeah yeah," Ray replied dismissively. "...You guys are wearing tights," he said a second later, only noticing then two of the group's costumes.

"I ain't wearing tights yo, this is just... not loose-fitting."

"Those ur tights, Todd," Rahne assured, not bothering to deny her costume- Catwoman wore a cat suit, not surprisingly.

"Oh you guys wear spandex during your training sessions," Todd replied, crossing his arms.

"Where'd you get the shirt?" Jubilee asked Ray, cutting in before a longer discussion on tights and spandex could continue. She was wearing one of Amara's more extravagant dresses, though it wasn't over-the-top. The two girls had decided not to get actual costumes and had traded outfits- Jubilee choosing one of Amara's princess attires while Amara borrowed one of Jubilee's traditional Chinese dresses.

"You mean 'who' did I get it from. Speak of the bat-devil."

"Hey batboy," Todd waved as more greetings followed as the Batman-for-the-night Brazilian of the house entered.

"Hey guys. Nice shirt, Ray- where'd you get it?"

"Funny, DaCosta. Real funny."

"Just trying to get you in the Halloween mood. Appreciate my effort a little. I had the decency to not get it in some weird color like pink, didn't I?"

"I'm wearing it, aren't I? And I'm not even going to comment on color choice. Roberto, this is **orange**."

"Oh don't worry Ray, it matches your bangs," Amara stifled a laugh. "Besides, it gives you a cute pumpkin kind of look."

"All right, enough on the shirt! You guys are wearing... tights and dresses and whatnot, so no more comments on my shirt!"

* * *

"Are you going to drink that or stare at Jubes all day?" 

"Huh? Oh, sorry," Bobby replied, picking up the cup that Sam had filled for him.

"He's gone Sam, he's gone," Fred commented, looking at the cowboy as he iced his drink a bit too much and ended up with a solid block of soda, but didn't even notice.

"Completely," the temporary Frankenstein agreed. "First Roberto, now Bobby. Who's next?"

"Hey guys."

"Wow, quick answer," Sam shrugged before taking a drink from his cup.

"Nah, Lance was the first," Fred replied.

"What are you guys talking about?" Lance raised an eyebrow.

"Nuthin'," Fred stated. "I thought you were hanging out with Kitty?"

Lance was openly skeptical regarding the topic they had been discussing previous to his arrival, but decided not to press on the matter and answered the question instead. "She's talking to Rogue right now. Fred, where are Pietro and Tabby?"

"No idea. I think they're still back in Pietro's room. I dunno if Pietro got Tabby to wear the costume or not."

"Uh-huh... Probably did- remember when Pietro got her to spend that afternoon trying to teach him to cook? That took a long time for him to convince her to do, but he did it," Lance mused, absent-mindedly watching several Jamies- one a ghost, one a mummy, one a clown- running away from a Zorro Kurt as they carried his sword away.

"Remember when Pietro blew up the soup half an hour later and Tabby swore never to let him near the stove again?" Fred replied as Kurt teleported in front of the Jamie that had the sword and took it back.

"Oh yeah. Touché, Freddy."

"Tabby knows how to cook? And I thought you said Pietro's cooking scares you?" Bobby asked, finally turning his attention on the conversation.

"She can cook some stuff, depends on what, really. She doesn't like to though, so she almost never does. And Pietro's cooking? It does. I'm not too proud to admit that Pietro's cooking scares me. That's why I wasn't the one trying to teach him," Fred answered, with all the seriousness of the world.  
"I never thought I could say food scared me until I met Pietro."

* * *

"Come on, Tabby! It's been seventeen minutes! I'm dying of boredom here!" 

"I'm not ready!"

"Tabby, you're making me crease the shirt by leaning on the wall waiting for you!"

"Then stop leaning!"

"Come on! I'm booored!" he crossed his arms, groaning out loud.

"Then what are you doing here?"

The white-haired teen swerved around to stare at him. "What do you want, Daniels?" he bit back on a more caustic retort.

"Nothing. Just passing by. I thought you were talking to yourself for a minute, Maximoff," he replied after a moment.

"You know how to think?" So much for holding back.

"Not that you would be able to tell," Evan shot back. "What are you supposed to be, a vampire? Real original, Maximoff."

"This coming from the one with a standard jailbird routine, Daniels?"

"Oh that you'd know, wouldn't you. After all you have experience in that field."

"Daniels..." He bristled, and it was only the door opening behind him that kept him from turning the spat into a bigger fight.

"I just can't leave you boys alone, can I?" Tabitha commented as she closed the door behind her. "Quickie, Spykey, play nice."

"...Sorry," Evan finally mumbled, if not exactly sounding it, after a good thirty seconds, while Pietro did his part to look remotely regretful.

"...Whatever Daniels."

"..." The other boy gave Pietro a lingering look before he walked on, and Pietro wondered if that was regret or reluctance in his eyes. No, neither. Couldn't be.

Tabitha spoke amidst his internal dialogue. "...Pietro, you know I could never be mad at you for real, right?"

"...Yeah."

"Good." Tabitha promptly smacked him over the head.

"OW!" the white-haired boy turned, facing her. "What was that!"

"Necessary," she easily brushed off his indignant expression of a response before turning more serious. "You have to talk to him. I mean it."

"I do not-"

"Pietro. I don't want to see you hurting. None of us do."

He didn't have the courage to meet her gaze, feeling like the worst person in the world for putting that worried expression on her face.  
"...I know."

* * *

Most were dancing now. 

And most were dancing in twos.

Todd stuck around near the food, talking to Fred; neither felt any need or desire to find a dance partner anytime soon- in fact, neither danced much to begin with anyway. They were content to watch the others occupy the dance floor while they kept the nachos company.

Pietro and Tabitha had entered the room about ten minutes go, and Tabitha had convinced Pietro to dance with her, using the unbeatable logic of "hey, I wore the costume for you- you're dancing with me".

Most of the room being filled with X-Men, it was not hard to understand that most of the dancers were X-Men as well.  
Awkwardly Roberto DaCosta had asked one Rahne Sinclair to dance, while the ever-hesitant-yet-mutually-attracted duo of Scott and Jean, the first dressed as a knight and the second a belly dancer as promised to Kitty, dominated the right side of the dance floor.

Near them were Bobby and Jubilee; Bobby had been even more hesitant than Roberto and Scott in asking his partner to dance.  
So much, actually, that Ray had gotten disgusted with Bobby's shyness and had pushed the ice teen into Jubilee. Somehow, after a moment of awkwardness, that had solved the problem.

The problem solved, the electro-kinetic teen was now downing a slice of pizza with Sam, Amara, and Jamie, the older trio deciding to keep watch on Jamie lest the youngest of the mansion devour any more sugar (it was truly a frightful thing to see Jamie(s) hyper on sugar); it hadn't been five minutes until Evan and Kurt had joined them.

Currently they had splintered into two conversations: Kurt, Evan and Jamie were arguing the topic of the best video game to be played on Halloween, while Amara, Sam, and Ray were discussing the hazards (and a few good points) of having dating couples in their clique.

* * *

"Hey Rogue. Mind if I borrow Kitty for a while?" 

"Sure. Ah had enough of her for one night anyway. She's behind this costume of evil."

"Hey!"

"Ah still can't believe Ah agreed tah it."

"So I heard. And believe me I know the feeling- Pietro is behind mine, which I suspect will be the source of years of embarrassment and likely blackmail," Lance assured as Rogue stepped back to let Kitty pass by. She watched with the tiniest bit of jealousy as the two danced together, her gaze trailing towards Scott for the briefest of seconds before it snapped back. Glancing around the other side of the room, she spotted Fred and Todd and headed over to join them.

* * *

"I'm surprised, Tabby- you're almost keeping up with me when I slow down." 

"Oh shut up Quickie. You can't handle me," she flashed a grin.

"Keep thinking that- they say denial isn't so bad after all," Pietro grinned back. Behind Tabby he noticed Lance going up to Kitty and Rogue, then proceeding to dance with the first of the girls. "...Tabby? You mind if I change partners for a bit?"

"You got someone in mind, Quickie?"

"...Just thought I'd check on Rogue. She was talking to Kitty, but-"

Tabitha glanced over, and merely nodded at seeing Lance with the pony-tailed brunette. "...Of course I don't mind, Pietro. She's your friend, and I have accepted that."

"Only accept it? Think about joining us on that front?"

She looked away at the stiffer tone his words took. "...Pietro..."

"...I didn't mean it the way it sounded. It's just... I... sorry."

"No, it's all right. I'm kind of getting tired; I'm going to take a break," she smiled at him before turning and walking off.

He hesitated for a full thirty seconds before sighing and heading for Rogue, Todd and Fred.

* * *

"...Tabby? You all right, yo?" 

"Of course I am, Froggy. But I would be much better if Sammy and Freddy hadn't eaten all the nachos."

"I'm kinda guilty for that one too."

"Well, I'll let you off the hook this time," She grinned. "So what have you been up to?"

"Talking to Freddy and Rogue. Pietro's over there too, now."

"I know. And I'm guessing he asked you to check on me."

"No... not exactly anyway..." he trailed off.

"I don't mind," she stated. "I don't," she repeated at seeing that she had failed to convince him.

"...Well if you're sure..."

"I am."

"...Okay. Want to get some popcorn? There's a bowl over there that Freddy hasn't discovered yet."

"Nah. I'm gonna turn in. Kinda tired from work and the danger room session. Don't get drunk," she grinned, both knowing that he would never touch alcohol and both knowing she was only kidding.

"At a party the X-Men are having?"

"Point taken, Froggy. Don't sleep too late," she waved behind her as she walked towards the dorm halls.

* * *

"Lance, I'm really glad you asked me to dance." 

"And I'm really glad you asked me to be your date."

"Well, I'm glad you accepted," she let out a small laugh. "And I'm also glad you didn't wear the eye patch, because then this talk would be much less serious."

"I think the seriousness is gone now," Lance replied, rolling his eyes, but not in earnest. "...Kitty, I never liked Halloween until tonight."

"... And I never thought I'd like dancing with a pirate until tonight," she managed to say with a straight face, though she couldn't help but end with a smile.

"...You're never going to let me live this down," Lance groaned.

"Yes I will- just not right now," she grinned.

"I don't want to think about how bad you would have teased me if I had worn one of the other choices."

"Then don't think about that," Kitty put her arms around his waist, leaning in to him.

He was just about to draw her closer in when he saw Tabitha walking out the room. By the way she walked, he could tell there was something slightly wrong- the 'slightly' part, he wasn't sure about, since Tabitha had the tendency to be better at hiding these things than everyone else, but he was certain about the 'something being wrong' part. Todd's concerned expression as he joined the rest of the Brotherhood at a nearby table confirmed that. After a second of hesitation, his eyes slightly pained at having to make such a decision, he put a light hand on her shoulder, gently pulling away. "I'm sorry Kitty. I have to go check on something."

She must have noticed the worry in his eyes, because her blue too grew concerned. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure... I'm really sorry, Kitty, but I don't want to leave her alone if she's upset- she might just be tired, but..."

Her eyes trailed his to the Brotherhood, and she noticed the missing person that he was talking about- not that it hadn't been hard to figure out, with the pronoun he used. She turned back to him, and faced his regret-and-concern mixed eyes with intentionally brightened ones. "It's all right. I don't want Tabby to be alone if she's upset either. You should go after her and check to see if everything's all right."

He gave her a grateful gaze and after another second of holding her hand, he let go and headed for the door.

* * *

He watched as Lance went after Tabitha- feeling immensely relieved. Another minute and he would have gone after her himself, even if he wasn't sure he'd be able to do anything. He felt guilty. Extremely guilty. He hated having to choose between two people, but he seemed to be constantly faced with such dilemmas.  
And he seemed to always make the wrong decision.  
Always the wrong decision. 

He sighed and tuned back into the conversation, but a tenth of a second and he knew he couldn't do anything else now.

"I'm going to go check on Tabby," he stated and left, just as Kitty joined the group.

"Pietro, Lance-" the girl started, but he was already gone.

"He already knows Lance went after her," Fred assured. "He wants to see if he can do anything to help. He's feeling bad about it."

"Oh... are you guys going to go too?" Kitty asked, looking at the remaining Brotherhood members.

Todd shook his head. "Nah. We ain't good at that. And Tabby- well, she's Tabby." Kitty wasn't sure what his expression and words meant- there was concern there, but also resigned acceptance.  
"We'll just keep an eye out from here, yo, in case something happens."

* * *

"Lance!" 

He turned, his hand falling from the wall habitually. "Pietro?"

"It's kind of my fault," the white-haired teen fidgeted. "I don't think I should've left her."

"She's probably just tired, Pietro," Lance assured. "You want to come with me to see?"

A quick nod. "Yeah."

They had a few more minutes before they reached the door to Tabitha's room, but little else was said.

"Tabby?" Lance's knock was answered after a silent moment.

"Yeah?"

They took that as permission to enter and proceeded. Closing the door behind them, they saw Tabby sitting up on her bed, changed back to her usual clothes, the costume folded up on the desk.

"Hey Lanc- Quickie?"

"Just wondering what you were up to," Pietro looked at her with slightly lowered eyes, avoiding a direct gaze.

She got off the bed. "I'm just a little tired, that's all. I liked the costume; I really did, Pietro. It's prettier than anything I've ever seen before, much less worn."

"...I'm glad you like it... Do you want to go back to the party?"

"Dancing with you tired me out, Quickie," she grinned. "I give you good competition though, don't you think?"

He nodded wordlessly, and a pained look passed through her face for a split second. She turned to Lance, and he nodded, knowing exactly what she was worried about- Pietro wasn't only feeling guilty over Tabitha. He was now going downhill with his memories, which they had been worried about all day.

Pietro loved Halloween simply because he loved the person that the holiday reminded him of. And every Halloween, he thought about her more. And it tore him apart.

"...Pietro... do you want to stay here for a bit?" Lance wasn't quite sure if Pietro was in the mood to feign normality or not.

"...are you going to leave?"

"No. Not unless you want us to."

"I don't."

"Then we won't."

"Come on, Quickie," Tabitha coaxed, taking his hand and leading him to the bed, Lance following behind them. "You want me to leave so you can talk to Lance?"

"...it's all right."

"You sure, Pietro?"

"Yeah..."

Tabitha hesitated still, but motioned for Lance to take a seat next to the white-haired teen.

"Pietro... you want to talk about it?" Lance asked, feeling very inadequate and plainly, quite lame, at the weak attempt.

"...No... I... I just miss her, that's all. I miss her..."

"Pietro..."

"I miss her... she must hate me. I left her there... all alone... she must hate me. But I miss her so much."

A careful hand reached for his, but he stood up. And their worried gazes followed him when he headed for the door slowly. "Pietro..."

"I... I just need to be alone for a bit."

"...a..all right... just... tell us if you want anything, Pietro," Lance sighed when the teen walked out the door, closing it behind him with barely enough strength.

"...You should go talk to him," Tabitha sighed.

"No... I have to give him a little space. I'll go find him in a bit. He's frustrated, and I'm no help until he wants me to be."

"...I'm worried about him."

"...I am too. But he's holding up."

"It's not just Spyke. It's not just Halloween and his sister. It's everything, Lance."

"I know... Pietro can't handle being around so many people all the time. He needs more space."

"...Yeah. He needs space too... he's feeling out of place here. More than we are."

"We have to get him out of here. We have to leave."

"...we can't leave."

Her statement brought Lance back to the topic he had been denying the existence of for the past weeks. "...you can. I'll stay here. You can take the guys and leave. It'll be all right."

"No. We're not leaving you. If you suggest that one more time, I'm telling Kitty about the costume with pink that Pietro made in your size."

He smiled faintly, and she smiled back, but he could see the worry in her eyes. "Tabby... are you sleeping lately?"

"Of course I am, Lancey. Don't worry about me."

"...I do, you know."

"Don't. Not about me, okay? I'm good- hey, this is kind of working out for me- we have running water. And heat. At the same time," she grinned. "Plus, I get to have a job and the boss likes you, so he likes me. The benefits of being your sister are very extensive," she chuckled.

He finally cracked a full grin, if partially only to honor her attempt.  
"Oh, but Miss Smith, you are so much the better tax auditor."

* * *

'I'm sorry Wanda... I don't know what was wrong with me that day... no, I'm sorry. I know, and I'm ashamed because I know exactly what it is and how true it is, but I don't know how to be anything else. I'm sorry I'm such a coward, Wanda... I was never as strong as you...' He defied the tear that threatened to drop, but in the end he lost the battle and the droplet rolled down his cheek. 

There was little that he would rather do than break down right then and there, but he forced himself to delay the act. He half wished that Lance would show up after all, or Tabby- though he knew he must have hurt her, leaving her like that earlier.

But he simply didn't know what to do anymore. As much as he boasted his speed, which never allowed anyone to even come close to keeping up with him, he knew the same speed betrayed him when it came to people.  
He didn't have the patience to do things the normal way, and this usually caused rifts between others and him, and when one was left with as much free time as he was, such rifts usually led to pranks and eventual (and often inevitable) fighting. The only people that had gotten used to him enough that they did not mind his pranks- and he in turn attempted to hold off on them- was the Brotherhood.  
And nowadays, with Lance hanging out with Kitty more- and he deserved to, what with everything that had happened, Pietro admitted, especially since Lance was sick and anything that could possibly help was fine with Pietro; and Tabby going to work; as well as Fred and Todd hanging around with the Mini-X-Geeks; well, he found that the few people that did tolerate him were usually off somewhere else.  
While he did spend some time with Rogue when the rest of the Brotherhood was elsewhere, he found that he still couldn't quite get used to the X-girl. And it frustrated him. And when they were all together- he didn't know what to do then either.  
Given the fact that Todd and Fred had usually hung out together to begin with, and Lance had usually been at work, Pietro had at first naturally turned to Tabitha. But having taken Lance's place at work, she was more than often out.  
He felt everything was out of his control, and it was driving him crazy- especially with no one to rant to about it.

And today... it was the day that reminded him of her the most during the year, perhaps. But they were fine without his problems... they didn't need him to depress them too...

Suddenly the light flicked on and he swerved around, defensive and glaring.

He was met with the surprised mahogany eyes of one Ororo Munroe.

"...Pietro? What are you doing here?"

'Oh. Damn.'

Yes, Pietro had forgotten that the weather witch frequented this room. He cursed himself for seeking out the room simply for the plants and the fact that it was, usually anyhow, deserted.

"...Sorry. I'll be leaving," he mumbled, lowering his hands that had already loosened from fists.

"...Have you been crying?"  
Her words were soft enough, but to him they were like knives.

"NO! Just leave me alone! I-hate-this! And-I-hate-this-holiday! I-hate-that-I-love-it-just-because-it-reminds-me-of-her-and-I-hate-that-it-reminds-me-of-how-horrible-I-am! I-hate-that-I-try-to-be-happy-every-Halloween-because-I-love-her-and-I-loved-that-she-was-so-happy-on-Halloween-and-would-always-make-me-wear-costumes-that-matched-hers-and-I-shouldn't-be-happy-I-should-be-miserable-and-hate-myself-for-what-I-did-to-her! And-I-hate-that-I'm-stuck-with-the-X-Geeks-on-Halloween-and-I-can't-even-be-depressed-right-and-everyone-else-is-fine-with-staying-with-the-X-Geeks-except-me-and-I-know-I-should-be-too-since-Lance-needs-to-get-better-and-this-is-the-only-way-but-we're-stuck-here-and-I'm-stuck-here-and-they're-always-spending-time-everywhere-else-but-here-with-me-and-I-just-hate-this!"

His breathing was harsh now, not because of the speed of his words, which had definitely thrown Ororo off after the second sentence, but because of the emotions that were running through him.

"And-to-top-it-all-off-I-just-spilled-my-guts-to-the-enemy-that's-not-technically-my-enemy-while-I'm-here-but-will-be-again-the-moment-we-leave-and-then-Mystique-will-come-back-and-it'll-just-be-fighting-again-and-I-hate-fighting-so-much-and-all-the-time-with-Mystique-back-and-since-I-spilled-my-guts-to-the-enemy-Mystique-will-be-pissed-off-even-more-than-just-because-we-were-with-the-enemy-for-weeks-and-she'll-just- I can't stand this!"

It was over now- he could feel the hot tears already rolling down his cheek. He knew perfectly well that he would absolutely hate himself for this later, for the rest of his life probably; but then again, he was already doing that for leaving Wanda there, so it didn't make that big a difference.

He froze completely when she suddenly stepped forward and took his hand, gently leading him to a chair. He followed only because he was too stunned to do anything else.

She took out a handkerchief- white as her hair, white as his hair- and carefully wiped away his tears. Then she sat down across from him, moving the small coffee table aside so that nothing but air lay in between them.

"Tell me about it, please."

And he did, unable to hold it all in any longer.


	5. Chapter 5 Endless beginnings

**Chapter 5. Endless beginnings.**

She glanced at the clock another time.

Yet another time.

She was wondering if Pietro would show up on time. Of course, the rational side of her mind told her it would be nothing short of practically impossible for the teen to be late if he kept track of the time and made sure to head out to pick her up... oh, ten seconds before due time. Of course the speed lover would be there on time. Of course he would remember. It was Pietro.

She had gotten rather fond of his 'surprise' trips to pick her up. At first, it had really been a surprise. Then he had picked her up again the Monday after Halloween. And throughout the week, he had come to pick her up- a total of five times, with only one missed day, the day being Saturday- that day, he and the rest of the Brotherhood boys had been out at the mall with Kitty and Rogue. Without her, but... he had come most of this week as well. And the only time she hadn't expected him to show up this week, and was sure he wouldn't, had been when she had told him she'd be late, on Tuesday. And he had showed up. It was Saturday again now, and she found herself checking the clock.

She knew she shouldn't expect him to show up- she hadn't asked for him to, after all. It wasn't fair of her to assume that he'd do this just for her. But she hadn't been able to help feeling disappointed when he hadn't showed yesterday, or two days before that.

She knew she shouldn't want him to pick her up- she should want him to stay with Lance, to keep an eye out for everything and anything that might happen. The Brotherhood had little energy to spare- she didn't want it to be used on her when Lance was definitely the better candidate. Not to mention she was worried about Pietro. He still wasn't faring as well as her other two younger brothers, uncertain of life amongst the X-Men- though both she and Lance had noticed that he was definitely on better grounds with Ororo. He had told them briefly of the weather witch's walking in on him on Halloween, but his voice had been lacking in animosity, just a dash of annoyance- the kind he would use with them if they had aggravated him a little, mostly. In fact, Pietro was beginning to talk to the weather witch quite frequently, much like Fred and Todd were with Hank. Fred and Todd were doing all right in the mansion- they had rather gotten used to the routine there, and were, with some encouragement from Hank, even doing a little better with school (mostly due to the fact that now they actually cracked their books open and did some homework). She knew none of them were up to admitting it yet, but life with the X-Geeks hadn't been so terrible. And they were definitely less stressed out, now that they weren't constantly worrying about heat, water, gas, food and the rest of the package that came with living with no one to support them but themselves. Even Lance seemed to be doing better; she knew his time with Kitty was helping to keep him from falling into deep depression.

Lance...

She refused to let the sigh escape and returned to her work, forcing away the sudden urge to throw a bomb at the nearest object.

"About done?"

She swerved around. "Pietro! How did you get in without me noticing?"

"I was very, very quiet," he smirked. "So, about done?"

"...Almost. Have to finish this though. And sweep around a bit here."

"Okay," he strolled over to the closet, and with the most flair he could apply, opened it to take out the broom.

"What are you doing?" she chuckled at his mock-serious expression.

"Suiting up. Mission: sweeping. Can do."

"Pietro, you don't have to. Just wait- I'll be done soon and then I can do it."

"Oh you take too long. I can finish this while you finish that. I hate waiting."

"Oh fine. But do it the normal way."

"You take the fun out of everything."

"Hardly."

"Do I have all three of the siblings working for me now?" They both turned to look as the present employer of the 'older' of the two entered the room.

"Oh, hey boss. Nah, Pietro's just waiting for me to finish and wanted to help out."

"I see," he pulled the broom out of Pietro's hands, much to the surprise of the white-haired teen, before turning back to Tabitha. "Smith, don't keep your brother waiting. You can finish that on Monday. Go home."

"Nah, it's all right, I can get it done-"

"Smith, I'm kicking you out. Get home and eat something."

"Boss, remember how I said encouraging your employees to slack off is a bad thing? I didn't get anything done during lunch, I can do this now."

"Smith, remember how I said you're not actually supposed to work during lunch? Now get out of here already. Don't make me tell you another time."

Finally she gave in, getting up with a look of mock chiding. "Fine, boss, but you'd make a lousy tyrant."

"I'll take note of that, Smith. Goodbye, Mr. Maximoff. I have to say it's nice of you to take her off my hands."

"Um, sure..."

"Yeah, yeah. See ya tomorrow boss."

"Get some sleep."

"Sure thing."

Once they were outside, Pietro spoke. "You like that guy?"

"Hm? He's not bad. He asks about Lance. And he's all right to work for. Ordered lunch for me today."

"I think he's all right. Otherwise, how would you have stuck to this job so long?"

"You're a riot Quickie."

"Hey as long as I'm your little brother, I'm taking advantage of all the possible teases."

"As opposed to before when you did that anyway."

"But now it's almost mandatory for me to do this. Anyhow- you remember that we have a danger room session in ten, right?"

"Of course. Can't possibly forget the joy that is in a danger room session with Wolverine."

* * *

"I said I was sorry! Man, it's not like I meant anything serious, I was just fooling around!" Tabitha snapped at the knocking at her door, turning as it creaked open. 

"Um...Tabby..."

The annoyance melted away and she gave an apologetic grin, getting up and pulling him inside the room before closing the door.  
"Sorry Lancey. I thought you were Badger. He's out to get me 'cause of what I did back there."

"...Right... Tabby, you doing okay?"

"Huh? Yeah, sure Lance,"she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. That made him more worried.

While everyone else was certain that the accident that had taken place during the danger room session- one that had almost been a life-threatening situation- Lance had differing thoughts. He had seen the look of shock on the blond the second after her bomb had blown, strong enough that it had knocked back the nearby Kurt and Evan back into the walls while throwing her off balance and onto the floor as well. But he hadn't needed to see the look to know that something was very wrong- Tabitha had not meant for that to happen. And she proved it when she first insisted it was lack of aim, then changed her excuse explanation to the explosion having been on purpose but just a joke. She stuck to the second then and insisted she was only fooling around, but he was worried she was too stressed, too tired. It was rare that she'd slip up on an excuse, especially when it was to hide her tired- both physical and mental- state. Lance had been worried that she was falling into deep depression, and after this incident he was even more concerned for her psychological well being.

"Well... Tabby..."

"Lancey, let's go to the mall tomorrow. Or a movie. I bet Todd wants to see a movie. I haven't been out in so long."

She wasn't looking at him anymore, but digging in her closet for something, but the tone was enough to tell Lance she did not want to talk right now.

"...yeah all right Tabby."

* * *

"So I **told** Rogue not to try, but she did. She never listens to people, have you noticed? And now everyone knows Rogue sucks at video games." 

Ororo Munroe only listened, her expression calm with a light smile as usual. The white-haired boy was relating the story of what had happened in the morning, when Rogue had apparently challenged a very proud (he had just beat Kurt for the second time in a row, and Kurt was one of the renown video game princes of the mansion) Todd at a video game, not understanding what all the fuss was about. And had, apparently, promptly been beaten.

She was glad to see that he was adjusting better, and beginning to trust her more. He still stuck to ramblings on daily events and rarely divulged information on his deeper thoughts, but she could tell he was starting to accept her. Which was why she had decided to carry out this plan- she wasn't sure it would work, but if it backfired, she knew she would lose his trust, and most likely for good. But she had decided to risk it, for the need was too great- she could only hope this would work. Both needed it- perhaps everyone did.

"Pietro, I'll be right back. Will you wait here?"

"Huh? Oh, sure. Yeah, whatever," he shrugged with a slight nod, after which the weather witch smiled and got up, leaving the room.

The speedster sat on the couch, briefly musing on the colour of the sofa before his attention was turned at the creaking of the door. But to his surprise, it was not Ororo Munroe that entered through the door.

No, in fact it was someone quite different.

"Hey Auntie O, you wanted to see me- Pietro?"

"What do you want, Daniels?" Pietro glowered, getting up.

"Nothing from you," Evan snapped back. "I thought-"

Both turned at the clicking of the lock on the now-closed door. The lock that locked from the outside.

Both were shocked to hear the voice that followed.

"I'm sorry to deceive you boys, but this was the only way I could get you to talk to each other."

The two teens stared at the door in disbelief, then at each other, before turning back to the door.

"I can't believe you would do this to me!"

"You! I'm the one that's stuck with an X-Geek! All of you are just deceitful do-gooders that say they're better than they really are! Not even Mystique would pull something low like this! Let me out! Let me out!"

Unfortunately for the two, the door held against Pietro's angry bashing and with a growl Pietro turned away from the wooden entrance, stalking back to the couch.

"Fine. If she won't open it, I'll just wait until someone does. This isn't the first thing I've had to wait for and it won't be the last," he glanced at Evan- well, glared- before speaking, "You just stay away from me, Daniels."

Evan narrowed his eyes, dragging a chair to the other side of the room and taking a seat. "Gladly- same to you, Maximoff."

* * *

Ten minutes had barely passed before Pietro abruptly got up. "I can't stand this! I have to get out of here!"  
Immediately he was in front of the door, banging at it and yelling as loudly as he could.  
"Lemme out! Lemme out, damn it! I-swear-all-you-X-Geeks-are-evil-and-sadistic-underneath-the-goody-goody-attitudes! Lemme-out-lemme-out-lemme-out!" 

Evan feigned deafness and blindness successfully for a full five minutes before turning to the speedster (who was still screaming at the silent and unresponsive door). "No one's there, Maximoff! Stop it, you're giving me a headache with all your shouting!"

"I-can't-stand-this!" Pietro snapped, swerving around to glare at the other teen. "Who-the-hell-says-I-gotta-talk-to-you-anyway? I've-been-perfectly-fine-without-talking-to-you-and-I-will-be-still! This-little-plot-won't-work-and-I'm-never-giving-her-the-chance-to-pull-something-like-this-again!"

Though Evan tried hard to maintain his anger, it was a bit difficult when one had trouble deciphering the ramblings of the person they were supposed to be mad at and focusing on translating instead of being angry. So Evan settled for crossing his arms and sitting back down. "...Whatever Maximoff."

* * *

An hour passed, and even Pietro had given up on the "scream-at-the-door-until-it-opens' plan at this point. Both teens were, however, finding themselves incredibly bored.

* * *

Another hour passed before Evan finally spoke, breaking the long silence that had followed another round of Pietro's banging at the door (he hadn't given up after all)- after Evan's attempt (he hadn't either)- though Pietro had muttered incomprehensible run-on-sentences from his side of the room, most likely vowing to never talk to another X-Geek. 

"Maximoff, this is stupid. Come on." The skate-boarder got up and walked over, taking a seat in one of the chairs near the sofa Pietro was sitting on. "We're locked in here, we might as well talk."

The white-haired teen glared at him at that. "No. I am **not** going to 'talk'. I do **not** need to 'talk', and I refuse to, especially to you."

"Well I don't **need** to talk to **you** either, but they're not going to let us out until we do. Look, I know my aunt, and she's probably got the other adults in this too- they all want us to deal with this or something."

"Whatever. I don't care what you X-Geeks want."

"Look, Pietro! I'm sick of getting this from you! So either we talk and get this over with and never deal with it again or we can just stay locked up here forever!"

"Fine!"

* * *

Another half hour passed. 

"...Fine what? What was that 'fine' for?"

"I don't know," Pietro snapped.

Evan rolled his eyes. "Whatever man." He paused before continuing, considering his words before going on. "Look, maybe this is all just stupid, what we're doing. Maybe we're going about it wrong."

"What the hell are you talking about, Daniels?"

"I'm just saying- if we're going to live together, we might as well accept it and move on. It's not like either of us can change that fact for now."

"...fine."

"So... truce for now. Neither of us may want it, but face it- we're living in the same house, and that's the reality. If we fight every day, both our teams are gonna be on our backs. Deal?"

"...fine."

After Pietro's reluctant answer, Evan just nodded, considering that problem over with. His eyes were clouded however, and he was contemplating just **how** they were to handle this new development. He didn't have time to think of a way, however, before Pietro spoke.

"So, what, are you going to try to be friendly with me too, Daniels?"

"...I don't know."

"Figures."

At the white-haired teen's scoff, Evan snapped, getting up. "This is impossible! Why're we so damn thick-headed?"

Pietro glared, getting up as well, facing the X-teen's frustration with his own. "Don't ask me, Daniels! I'm the one in the psychologically unstable group here- oh, yeah, we know what you X-Geeks are saying," he snapped, jabbing an accusatory finger at Evan's chest. "But we're screwed up, not stupid."

Evan glared, pushing his hand away. "DON'T change the subject! This isn't about the X-Men and the Brotherhood. This isn't about our teams! This is about us! Just **you** and **me**, no one else."

"...Fine," Pietro bristled. "What do **you** want from **me**?"

"...Why can't you just get over that stupid fight we had? We've been friends longer than enemies!"

"You don't understand," Pietro hissed.

"Only because you never tell me anything!" Evan glared. "It was like that then, and it's still the same! If you want me to understand, tell me what's going on!"

"Fine!"  
Pietro snapped.  
"My twin sister was sent to an asylum, and I couldn't do a single thing to stop it from happening, to help her. I couldn't save her from my so-called father, and I never can! I couldn't help my friends either- and I betrayed them by not helping! Betrayed them! Because you know what! I'm a useless backstabbing jerk and that's all I know!"

Evan stared in shock, not only because of the words but also because of the tears that were falling from Pietro's pained blue eyes, now unmasked.

"Damn it, I needed you Evan! And you refused to help me! You refused to be my friend!"

"I...well, how was I supposed to know, Pietro! Hell, you barely even talked to me by that point, I didn't know any of that!"

"I know it's not your fault!" Pietro snapped.  
It was only a second later that he realized what he had said.  
"...I...know..."

"Piet-"

Before Evan could even finish, the speedster was gone.

* * *

...Well, he tried to be. Pietro made a quick two laps around the room and three more attempts at opening the door (a.k.a. attempts at breaking it down) before coming to the conclusion that they were still locked in and there wasn't much they could do about it. 

So he settled for sitting in a far corner, burying his head in his arms and ignoring the fact that the sleeves of his shirt were slowly getting wet. And everything about him told Evan that if he dared to come near, the speedster would make him regret it.

* * *

Evan ignored the silent warnings and threats after he had given the other teen ten minutes to get composed. 

And then another ten minutes to compose himself.

And another five minutes to figure out a decent way of going about this, and after failing miserably, giving up and simply walking over to the other boy.

Pietro glared up at the intrusion, his eyes no longer decorated with tears, but still quite a bit red. His attitude however, had reverted back to the usual, as had his behavior.

"What."

"Pietro..."

"What do you want, Daniels."

"...I'm...I'm sorry," Evan mumbled, fast enough to rival Pietro's hyper speech.

Pietro raised an eyebrow, not having expected the other teen's hesitant attitude. "What?"

"I'm sorry," Evan repeated, in same fashion, if even quieter.

"Daniels, you do realize I can't hear you, and I just said: 'what?'; because I can't hear you. As in, speak up?"

"Man, Pietro! You're just making it harder!" Evan snapped.

Pietro, taken aback, just stared, genuinely surprised.

"I'm sorry, I said," Evan stated, though now he wasn't sounding very sorry. His eyes however, told everything Pietro needed to know.

Evan was completely sincere, and he was risking absolutely everything in doing this- and he knew it.

* * *

Pietro stared. 

He didn't know what to say.

He didn't know.

Everything could change.

And change was bad. Change was always bad, in his life.

But... he didn't know. What if it could be better?

He didn't know. And he didn't trust himself to make the decision. He always made the wrong one. He was horrible with decisions and choices.

But... he didn't know. He wanted to risk it.

Everything could change... but... everything could **change**. For the better this time.

Maybe.

That was enough. He would risk it, for that little maybe.

He couldn't bear not trying.

* * *

"...okay." 

"Okay!" Evan echoed incredulously, disbelief at Pietro's chosen word after what had been a full five minutes, which must have been 'ages and ages' for the speedster.

"Okay."

"What kind of response is that!"

"I don't know! Just... okay!"

"...So... okay."

"Yeah."

"That's it."

"Yeah."

"...you realize this is years of fighting we're getting past, and so far the word we've said the most is 'okay'," disbelief was still clear in Evan's voice.

"Well, what do you want me to say!" Pietro snapped.

"How am I supposed to know? I never know!"

"Well don't expect me to know!"

"Fine!"

Pietro let out an exasperated groan after two minutes of silence.

"...this is stupid, Daniels."

"Yeah, well, so are you."

"Are we really getting past the fighting, or just starting a new type of it?"

"Well, you are. I would've understood. Or at least, I would've tried to. You should've trusted me."

"Well... you're stupid too, Daniels. You should've known by then what a thick-headed idiot I can be and not have screamed back at me when I started."

"That was the worst argument I've ever heard."

"Let's see you come up with a better one."

"...Okay, so I can't."

"Ha!"

"...Pietro, this is probably the dumbest conversation we've ever had"

"What, ever?"

"Ever."

"Including the time we considered spray-painting and then throwing matching color potpourri on-"

"Okay, not ever. Just in a long time."

"...Yeah. For once you're probably right, Daniels."

"You know, you can call me 'Evan' again, Pietro. We are back to being friends, aren't we?"

"...Nah, Daniels kind of stuck after a two years. Besides, you like calling me 'Maximoff'."

"You didn't answer the question. Are we back to being friends or not?"

"...Okay."

"...Okay?"

"Okay."

"Pietro, I've never disliked that word more than I do now."

"Funny, I've never liked it more than I do now."

"Shut up, Maximoff."

"Make me, Daniels."

"...you know, we're two idiots together, but I missed that."

"...okay."

"Pietro!"

"Oh come on! You know I had to say it!"

"You're a jerk sometimes- no, a lot of times."

"I guess I missed having you around too."

* * *

They found all the members of the Brotherhood and the X-Men waiting outside. 

Pietro smirked and headed towards his room without a word, and the Brotherhood managed to hold off all questions for another long minute.

Then Todd couldn't take it anymore. "So are you guys friends again or what yo!"

"I don't know if I should answer," Pietro replied, turning to the four teens with a feigned glare. "You guys were outside all that time I was screaming my head off, and you never opened the door!"

"If we had, you wouldn't have talked to Evan," Fred replied, plain and simple.

"Well yeah. But still!" Pietro insisted.

"All right, but we unlocked the door after you two talked, so answer Todd already, he's been wanting to hear it for hours now," Tabitha replied.

"Fine,"Pietro relented, seeing the fervent nodding of the youngest Brotherhood member. "So, I figure I might as well let him have the honor of my company if I've already let Rogue re-enter the circle and I let Pryde hang around my room, if only because of Lance."

"Pietro, you still surprise me sometimes," Lance ruffled the speedster's hair, causing the younger teen to scowl and push his hand away.

"The hair is still forbidden," Pietro stated.


	6. Chapter 6 Forgotten Dangers

**Chapter 6. Forgotten Dangers.**

Things were getting better.

The newly restored friendship between Pietro and Evan had allowed Pietro to get over much of his anti-everything-X-Man related feelings, and the teen was faring better with Evan's company.

Fred and Todd had developed a closeness to the New Recruits, and it was not rare to see the ten together. In addition, the gap between the New Recruits and the main X-Man team had shrunk considerably, as Fred and Todd had created a new bridge between the two formerly divided X-Men factors.

Todd seemed quite comfortable with the other teens, and seeing this, Charles Xavier had to wonder if the boy hadn't needed more company from other teens his age- the Brotherhood always viewed Todd as a friend, but more so, Todd was their younger brother. With the New Recruits, Todd was not the sheltered, protected one- rather they were all looking out for each other, equally. He was also getting to be on good terms with Kurt, their former rivalry now more concentrated into video game battles than anything else.

Fred had taken the relationship a bit differently. His big brother attitude had soon extended- though it had been subconscious- from just Todd to include all the New Recruits. Fred seemed to feel a certain responsibility towards them, and although Fred hadn't yet realized it, through his protective feelings, he was becoming more independent and stable himself, the slight responsibility of defending the New Recruits a new situation for him. The exception was with Ray, in whose case Fred's protective attitude was not as strong towards, as Ray had quickly made it known that he was much more independent than the rest of the New Recruits- and sometimes, the rest of the mansion teen population, period. Ray and Fred had developed a certain attitude towards each other, one that mostly consisted of mutual respect and growing trust- something both needed, Charles believed.

Lance hadn't been as depressed as before lately, especially at seeing Pietro on better grounds with the X-Men. He was doing well with the task of keeping his powers under control and not using them, and his extended time with Kitty had been doing much good for him. Indeed, Kitty had begun to hang out with the Brotherhood more often, along with Rogue.

This, however, brought concerns to Charles, though relating to a different source- Tabitha. Usually at work when not in school, the 'original' Brotherhood girl returned in time for dinner and rarely before. Charles had been getting to notice that the teen, while outwardly unchanged, was beginning to spend more and more time alone, the solitary behavior quite different from her former norm. He was worried she was feeling left out- or perhaps even replaced by Rogue and Kitty- but as she showed no outward signs of such emotions, he did not say anything- she was not ready for anyone to approach her, not even to help; she was not looking for it, nor would she accept it.

* * *

Three weeks straight. Three weeks straight he had bought her lunch, every Saturday. It was Saturday again now, and she was honestly expecting him to tell her that she owed him thirty dollars for all the past meals.

She was disappointed when he ordered yet again and paid without so much as a glance at her, now taking it as the natural course.  
She didn't see how this could be benefiting him in any way whatsoever, and she did not understand his reasoning behind it.  
She never liked not knowing things for long. So, when he sat down and waved her over, she walked over, though not sitting down.

"..Boss, why are you doing this?"

He replied without looking up, opening the pizza carton. "Because I'm hungry, Smith. Sit down already. We're closing early, so we'd better eat faster than usual and get back to work."

"No," she did not budge. "I mean- why are you being nice to me?"

He finally looked up. "I thought that was a good thing."

She didn't answer, but he had an idea of what she was thinking anyway.

"...Listen Smith, I don't know why myself, but I like you and your brother. Brothers," he grinned, but she seemed unconvinced. "So don't go quitting on me when you find a better job- it'd take forever for me to find replacements that fall asleep as much."

She stared back at him, uncertainty and disbelief hinted in her otherwise veiled eyes. Finally she sat down, closing her eyes.  
"Boss, you're a jerk."

"Maybe, but I am giving you a free lunch to make up for that, Smith. So let's eat. After lunch awaits the wonderful world of taxes for you."

She looked at him, a smirk gracing her features.  
"Boss, you're an ass."

* * *

"Oh shut up, Pietro."

"It's the truth and you know it," the white-haired teen said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"It is not," Evan retorted.

"I don't know Spykey- black spandex is not flattering," Tabitha grinned.

"It's not that bad," Kitty defended.

"Ha. Even Lance's uniform is better- and it has a fruit bowl helmet," Pietro stated.

"Hey! Don't drag me into this- I did not choose my uniform," Lance intervened.

"Yeah I always wondered about that man," Evan mused, his thoughts lingering on the 'fruit bowl'helmet. "But it's closer to a fishbowl."

"Not you too," Lance groaned. "I'm beginning to regret reuniting you two- now you guys just attack me together."

"Hey, he had a point," Evan shrugged.

"And it's not my fault my superior intellect shines and leads," Pietro stated.

"And now I'm regretting getting off early from work, just to hear Quickie's ego brag," Tabitha mock rolled her eyes.

"Jealousy is a terrible thing, Tabby," Pietro replied with a grin.

"I'm so sorry Fred has to share a room with him," Kitty turned to Lance, exaggerated sympathy on her features.

"Yeah-" Lance could not finish the sentence, as at that moment, the four teens heard a very distinctive roar.

And before they even realized it, Sabertooth was in the middle of them.

With yelps and yells, the five teens backed away.

The older mutant smirked maliciously and immediately headed for Kitty, only to be intercepted by a spike from Evan, who acted just as Lance put out a hand.

"Lance! You can't!" the X-teen reminded, followed by furious nods from the other teens.

"But-" Lance was cut short with a gasp, at seeing Sabertooth slash at Kitty anyway- but the girl phased through the attack, backing away a step before Pietro whisked her away.

"No, Lance! Don't you dare!" the speedster snapped.

The aligned teens glared at the lone attacker, Tabitha and Evan taking aim. Lance let out a frustrated groan, about to ignore Pietro's demand- but Tabitha noticed before he could act.  
"LANCE! Don't!"

The teen clenched his fists, but only stepped away as Sabertooth turned towards him after swiping at Pietro, who was too fast for him.  
"...Fine- Pietro, tell everyone Sabertooth is here!" Lance relented as Sabertooth smirked, stepping towards them.

"Yeah, I'm on it-" Pietro didn't even spend the time giving a full answer. He sped off.

...Or, attempted to.

He was promptly knocked down and out by Sabertooth- the feral mutant had expected the teen's move, and had simply been waiting for the right time.

Grabbing the unconscious Pietro by the back of his shirt, Sabertooth smirked, his eyes turning to Lance. He said nothing, but Lance knew exactly what the gaze meant. And while he stood stunned, Evan, Tabitha, and Kitty rushed at the mutant.

Only to be thrown back, their strength no match for Sabertooth.

That wasn't all- Sabertooth quickly grabbed Kitty, who had been taken off guard after seeing Evan fly into a tree, and knocked her out before she could even attempt to phase. And with the two unconscious teens in tow, Sabertooth was gone.

Getting up from the ground she had been thrown back on, Tabby gave a belated chase, but returned shortly after, the attempt having been a futile one.

"That bastard!" Lance was too shaken to note the fury in Tabby's voice.

Evan was only just getting his senses back, head still spinning from the unintended meeting with the tree. "I'm going to feel that tomorrow... what was that!" he exclaimed as he rubbed his head, getting to his feet with a slight stagger. "What does Sabertooth want with Pietro and Kitty!"

Tabitha hesitated to answer, a hand raised and mouth slightly open, but not speaking.

"...He wants me."

They turned at Lance's quiet proclamation.

* * *

"What do you mean?" Evan was bewildered.

But Lance said nothing, and before Evan could ask again, Tabby spoke.  
"No time now. We have to go after Sabertooth."

"Yeah... you guys go tell everyone what happened. We can use Cerebro to find them. I'll go get some maps."

Both nodded, and started running back to the mansion.  
Lance watched them for a second before he sprinted off to the garage.  
It didn't take him long to get there, and he opened the door with haste. And to his shock, there was already someone there.

"Tabby!"

"Running, getting Scotty's car and emergency key... Lancey, anything else you want me to prove I'm faster than you at?"

"What are you doing!"

"Driving. Get in."

"How-"

"Lance, I know you, all right? Now get in before Logan catches us and we're forced to try the 'teamwork' plan with everyone."

"No! Tabby, you need to-"

"No, Lance. You are not doing this alone. It's bad enough we can't go in and get Freddy and Todd. You're not leaving me behind too. Now get in, or I'm going to go without you."

He stared at her a second longer before he got in. "You don't know the way. Let's go."


	7. Chapter 7 Giving in and giving up

**Chapter 7. Giving in and giving up.**

They reached the building at near rocket speeds, courtesy of Tabby's experienced and expert, if a bit dangerous and possibly life-threatening at times, driving.

"How do you know it's this one?" she asked as they pulled in.

His expression darkened as he remembered. "It's his favorite."

She didn't bother parking the car, just stopping in front of an entrance. "What's the plan, Lancey?"

He hesitated, but quickly made up his mind, and turned to her. "He probably heard us pull in. I'll go in and distract him. You can get Pietro while I do that."

Tabitha shook her head. "I'll distract him, you can't use your powers-"

"He's expecting me, not you. He'll probably think I'm alone, so you'll have an advantage."

"But you can't use-"

"I know him. I'll manage. Pietro is probably locked in the connected building. Go through that door," he nodded to another side of the building, where- sure enough- was a door.

For a long second Tabitha didn't answer. Finally she sighed. "...All right. Then we can-"

"No. That's it. I don't want a big fight. I want you both to get out and into the car, and then set off a couple bombs or something so I know. Then we leave, okay? No fighting."

She studied him for another long second before nodding. "...If that's what you want."

* * *

He closed the door behind him, locking it himself, though during the other times, he hadn't been the one. 

The familiar sense of danger crept upon him as he looked around. As expected, it was completely dark, no lights lit. The only source of light in the warehouse came in through the windows placed high on the sidewalls, but most of even those were closed off with blinds.

"I'm here. What do you want with me."

It wasn't a question because he already knew the answer. He didn't see Sabertooth, but no doubt the other had him in clear vision.

"I don't think we really need of all this dark shadows formality-" he choked when the clawed hand grabbed his neck from behind, piercing nails digging into his flesh.

The voice that sent chills down his spine purred just behind his ears.

"It's a good thing you didn't forget your way. I would've gotten bored if you'd been any later."

He dropped to the floor, gasping for air, drawing in ragged breaths.

"I didn't know lateness was an option," he rasped out.

"Oh, rebellious today, are ya, kid? If I didn't know better, I'd say you were giving me a reason right now. I guess you're not so smart after all. But you remember your way good enough, so maybe you're not too stupid."

"I'm flattered you think you know me." Lance glared up.

"You know what?" Sabertooth smirked, and Lance had to fight to not to look away at the glint in the other mutant's eyes. "I think staying at that big mansion put something in that weak blood of yours. We'll have to change **that**, won't we."

Lance took the blow directly, crashing onto the concrete floor like he had so many times before.

The familiar game had started.

* * *

Tabitha had wasted no time getting in through the door Lance pointed out.  
She entered a long corridor that lacked lighting, and without even thinking about it, created a handful of bombs and tossed them on the floor. They did not explode, but merely rolled across the floor- their light showing a couple flashlights hanging on the wall a few feet ahead. 

Grabbing one, she turned it on, and the lights from the bombs extinguished as the flashlight produced its own. Not really taking notice of this, too absorbed in the rescue situation, she headed down the hall in search for her currently captive friends.

* * *

It didn't surprise him, when the kick came. None of it did. He was too used to it to be surprised. 

"Where's all the bravery now, kid? Weakling. Get up."

As all the other times, Lance pushed up against the floor and the metal-covered wall, staggering up, head spinning already.

Sabertooth smirked. "Don't you wonder how I found ya?"

He didn't answer, and Sabertooth only smirked wider. "I thought I caught your scent when I was looking around for that runt, Wolverine. And the next time I was around-" Lance bit back a pained gasp when Sabertooth pinned him against the wall, hitting his broken leg none too gently.

"Well, I found ya."

Noting that the teen was gritting his teeth to keep from making any noise despite the pain, Sabertooth pointedly knocked him back down, causing Lance to fall on his broken leg and finally let out a hiss of pain.

"Doesn't look like you got much out of living at that mansion after all. Not that you would, sticking around that runt Wolverine, always with those other weakling friends of yours."

As the powerful mutant smirked, Lance caught the gleam of satisfaction, the glee in the other's eyes. And he could not stand it.

"You're-," brown eyes more calm than challenging, he spoke, startling the other somewhat, since he was breaking the routine- something that wasn't done by the experienced teen without expecting a lot more extra pain.

"-**weak**."

* * *

"Pietro, Kitty, you guys in here...?" Tabitha whispered as she opened the door. She was immediately met with the sight of a tied up Pietro and an unconscious Kitty. 

But that was to be expected.

The slash on Pietro's chest, Tabitha had not expected nearly so much.

"Pietro! What happened to you?" she asked as she set to untying and un-gagging the speedster.

"Sabertooth! The-bastard-clawed-me-for-calling-him-'Saberkitty'. Where's-Lance? He-came, didn't-he! He-shouldn't-have-the-idiot! He-knows-this-is-a-trap!"

"You know he did," Tabitha replied as she got the last of the rope off of Kitty, gently shaking her awake. "He even tried to come alone- he ditched Evan, but I don't fall for that 'go and tell everyone while I go after him alone!' thing he does. Come on, Kitty wake up."

"He-shouldn't-have-come! I-would-have-gotten-us-out-once-the-X-Cat-woke-up!"

"L-Lance?"

"Nope, sorry girl, your gonna have to get your knight in shining armour some other time- it's just me right now."

"He-knows-this-is-a-trap! He-shouldn't-have-come!"

"I see Pietro's stuck in hyper-speech mode. Let's go- come on Quickie, I'll help you. No buts, you're hurt. Kitty, grab the flashlight- there's some lighting issues with this building."

* * *

The choking, he had not foreseen. 

He had expected a blow, perhaps to throw him back against the wall. Well he was back on the floor now, a clawed hand on his chest forcing him down, his back pressing into the cement so hard that he could almost feel his shoulder blades cracking under the force of it all. But the real retribution had been on his neck, the claws of the other hand digging into him, so deep that scarlet droplets trickled down his neck.

"Say it again, kid. **I dare ya**."

The strangling hold that clamped around his neck jerked him up, suspending him in the air as it had become almost customary during their rounds.

"Say it." Sabertooth snarled, red eyes full of blood thirst.

Lance vaguely registered his own struggling when the grasp around his neck tightened, cutting off his air supply almost completely. All he was really aware of was his blood-ridden whisper.

"_You're weak._"

* * *

"Tabby-where're-you-going! Lance-is-that-way!" Pietro yelled as they passed the door that connected the warehouses. 

"I know! Lance told me to get the car first!" Tabitha replied.

"We-should-get-him! Even-if-he-wants-to-leave-without-making-a-big-fight-we-should-get-him-before-we-go-outside!" Pietro argued.

"Pietro, he asked me to get you guys outside and in the damn car before we did anything else! You're injured, and you're listening to me so we can do this fast and get him out of here!"

"Guys, stop arguing!" Kitty cut in. "Look, Pietro, you're, like, hurt, so you can go with Tabby and get the car ready- I'll go help Lance out, all right? Be out quick!"

"No, Kitty!" Tabitha started, but the girl had already phased through the wall.  
"Damn it, Pietro! He asked me to get you guys safe! And Kitty doesn't even know about it!"

"Quickly- not 'quick'!" Pietro muttered after the long gone X-girl, not even knowing why he was correcting her grammar at the present time and place.  
"Well I didn't know she'd go in like that! She would've found out about Sabertooth anyhow! Besides, the longer he's in there, the more he'll be hurt! She can phase him out, and we can get out of here. I hate this place."

* * *

"You're weak. Weaker than him. And," Lance broke off at, not the roar of fury, but being thrown against the wall, biting back a pained yell. He slid down the wall and fell onto the floor, feeling the cold concrete, against his cheek. But his gaze challenged the red glare once again, unhesitant.  
"-And beating me up isn't going to change anything." he finished. 

And instantly he felt the hot fire of pain cut into him.  
He hadn't expected that either.  
As a rule Sabertooth rarely touched his face, and he had never done it on purpose- even the feral did not like to cross Mystique too often, and had avoided facial injuries that would be easily visible as well as permanent ones such as broken bones- most of the time. But the situation was obviously different now, without Mystique's protection- whether she had always meant for it or not- he was in even more danger. To add onto that Lance was not acting as he usually did, breaking routine with boldness Sabertooth was sure to find necessary to curb.

Four crimson, dripping slashes across his face proved that.

"You've had your last words of bravery- now we play my game!" Sabertooth snarled, grabbing him by the neck once more.

But it was only for a second; at that moment Kitty Pryde ran in- through the wall. And seeing Sabertooth with Lance, she instinctively grabbed Lance and phased him away, then outside, before anyone else had realized it.

"K-Kitty!" Lance stammered, two seconds late in noticing that they were no longer inside. "You- are you all right?"

"Yeah- wh-what happened to you, Lance! He-"

"It's nothing, really. Let's get out of here. Where's-"

"Lance!" Tabitha shouted in relief, from the car that veered in to Lance and Kitty, the vehicle screeching to a stop just in front of them.

From the passenger seat, Pietro yelled. "Get in! Hurry!"

"Pietro!" Seeing the blood on him, Lance's eyes widened. "You're hurt!"

"Me! Look in a mirror, Lance! What the hell-"

"No time, guys. Let's-"

Tabitha was cut short by the roar that came from an enraged Sabertooth, who had ripped off the doorknob in his anger instead of simply unlocking it.

Pushing Kitty behind him, and towards the car, Lance turned to the only other girl on the premises. "Tabby!"

"Got it!' she nodded, a handful of bombs forming in her hands, just short of two dozen. She threw them at Sabertooth just as Lance and Kitty ran into the car. They exploded three seconds too late, and it was only the sudden wall of earth that shot up from the ground, in between the mutant and the vehicle and its passengers, that blocked the Acolyte from reaching his target.

Panting, Lance managed to close the door before passing out, and Tabitha did not let another second pass, slamming on the pedal. They were off, leaving a very angry Sabertooth behind as the wall of dirt fell back to the earth.

The only person that was satisfied with the encounter that had taken place was the only one that hadn't actually taken part in it. Left unaccounted for, as he had intended, he let them leave, though he could more than easily have stopped them, sending down the metallic sphere to Sabertooth as he got in his own.


	8. Chapter 8 Hunted and Haunted

**Chapter 8. Hunted and Haunted.**

After a second of staring at the somewhat unfamiliar face in the mirror, he put an unconscious hand to his face, tracing the new slashes he had received just the previous day. The bleeding had stopped the night before, but the wounds were deep. They would definitely scar. Four deep slashes straight down his face. Four hideous diagonal reminders of the truth.

He had been told that it was fortunate that his eyes had not been damaged at all, his vision still perfectly intact, but somewhere in the back of his head a venomous voice cried out that Sabertooth had aimed so precisely on purpose, just to spite him with the visible results of his insubordination. If this was indeed true... well, he had been right in doing so, at least from his point of view, as Lance could not imagine how he could live with such vivid reminders of the horrendous ordeals. He could not look at the mirror for longer than a few seconds. He could not stand looking at himself, his own weakness.

Drawing the hand away and putting the mirror down, he glanced at the clock. Four. Just about time...  
Right on schedule there was a heavy knock at the door. A brief second passed before it opened and the figure walked in.  
It was not, however, who Lance had been expecting.It was not Hank coming in the infirmary for an afternoon check.  
It was Logan.

He quickly dropped his gaze lower.

"Hey Shakedown."

"...yes sir."

"You feeling better?"

"...yes sir."

"Hank's going to be coming in later. I wanted to talk to ya."

"...yes sir."

There was a brief pause, during which neither said anything. But while Logan's gaze was on the teen, Lance's was far down, looking down at his own lap.

"You could've gotten hurt real bad, Rocky. Even worse than this."

"...yes sir..."

"You sent Spyke to get us, didn't you?"

"Yes sir..."

"And Boom Boom too."

"Yes sir..."

"But she caught onto your plan and beat you to the garage."

"...yes sir."

Logan sighed, causing the teen to flinch and draw back. Seeing this, the elder's eyes clouded. After another second, he spoke again, his voice gentler.

"...Why didn't you wait for us?"

"..."

He didn't reply, though Logan gave him minutes to do so.

"Lance."

"..."

Still he said nothing, bangs fallen so far down his face that his eyes were hidden in their chocolate depth.

"At least look at me," Logan sighed, uncharacteristically softly.

When the teen did not move, Logan reached forward, but that brought instant reaction as Lance flattened back against the headboard of the bed, quailing under the other's presence, trembling.

That took Logan off guard. Even before... Lance had never been so blatant about his fear. The teen had been particularly terrified of him a few times, yes, but he had always been dead still. Never risking the possibility for worse punishment by moving. That much control, he had always had. But now...  
Withdrawing his hand, Logan sighed and stood up, heading for the door wordlessly.

It was only when his hand rested on the doorknob that he looked back at the quivering teen, rare, open concern in his eyes, though the teen could not see it.

"...We want to help you. All of you kids. If we're going to do that, you're going to have to start trusting us sometime, Lance."

There was no response, and no movement from the brunette.  
Logan sighed and left.

* * *

"Do you need any more painkillers?" 

"...no sir."

"...Well, all things considered, you're better off than the worst. You used your powers, but it doesn't seem to have done any worse damage."  
He didn't respond to that, and understanding, Hank just nodded. He wasn't one to push the teen for more answers. He just wanted him to rest for now, and questions would not help with that. Answers could come later. They could wait until the teen was in a healthier mental state. Now was not the time.After asking one more time if the teen was certain he didn't want any visitors yet, he left Lance to rest, with an encouraging smile.

Lance watched the door close, many things in mind, rest being far from one of the things. His thoughts still swirled around him in horrific tornados, but he was thinking clearer now than before, no longer swayed by fear and lesser emotions. He had made his decision.

And it would happen that night.

* * *

He knew where the spare keys were- all of the vehicles at the Institute had spare keys in a box in the garage, in case of emergencies. Swiftly he grabbed said box, reaching inside the container to shuffle through the articles- to choose which key.  
He hesitated, his gaze falling on the one key to the vehicle he was most familiar with—Logan's bike. 

The motorcycle was better suited for him than the other candidates—he was sure he could gain more distance with the bike than another vehicle, if not exactly all on roads meant for vehicles; and the bike was far easier to handle in case of emergencies than a car, being easier to hide as well.

But it was Logan's. **Logan's**. It would be a death wish to take it.

If only someone else had a bike, but that was the one and only in the Institute presently. If only... well, his life was a series of 'if only's. No use mulling over that now. He had to decide now, before anyone caught him. Taking the bike? A death wish, for sure. Taking something else? Well, what? Scott's car? It would be far too easy to spot, too easy to track. The X-van? Ha. If Scott's car was easy, the X-Van was like a giant target. No... there were no other choices.

After a long moment, Lance hesitantly put his duffle bag on the motorcycle.

He had no intention of getting caught, and taking the motorcycle would help with that. And as long as he didn't get caught... well, Logan couldn't kill something that he didn't catch first... probably... right?  
He still could not shake off the unnerving feeling of dread however, not even after he pulled the bike out of the garage and sped off.

* * *

Very few things managed to disrupt the general serenity of Ororo Munroe. Finding an empty bed where a recovering student should be, however, was one of those few things that managed to do just that. 

"Hank!"

With the usually quite tranquil and composed weather witch bursting through his door, Hank McCoy could not help but be startled as well. "Ororo, what's the matter?"

"Lance. Did he move back to his room?"

"No, not yet. I think it would be best to let him rest a bit longer-"

Uncharacteristically, Ororo interrupted. "He's not in bed. He isn't in the room."

His answer was just as hasty, and he was already getting up from his seat. "Have you checked the Brotherhood rooms?"

"No, not yet. I'm going there now."

Suppressing the feeling that something was very wrong, Hank stepped out the door to join her as they headed for the dorms.

* * *

They could not find him anywhere. Even the students had taken up the search, but there was no sign of him anywhere on the grounds. The Boarding house had been checked thoroughly, to no avail. Even though no one really thought that Lance would head into town, Pietro, Evan and Kitty had gone so far as to venture in to check, just in case. No luck. 

Suffice to say, the general atmosphere of the mansion wasn't the calmest at the moment, the tension up a hundred degrees.

It wasn't until Charles had managed to guess a location via Cerebro that there seemed to be more organization. To see who would go to get Lance, of course.

"I AM GOING!"

Or maybe less organization. At the moment the debate, closer to argument to be precise, to choose who would go was rather... hectic, despite attempts from the resident adults plus Jean and Scott.

"Just calm down Pietro-" Rogue's attempt too was futile.

"No, I will not calm down! Lance has run off somewhere and I am going to go **find** him, **kick** his ass for leaving, and drag his sorry ass **back** here."

"Pietro-" Fred didn't even get to continue.

"Fred! He is gone! And do we even know WHY?! NOOOOOO! Because-the-stupid-jerk-left-without-so-much-as-a-word! I'm-going-to-go-find-him-and-drag-"

"**PIETRO**!"

The slap, though light, Pietro found hard to counter against. Stunned, he could only stare back as Tabitha spoke. "Stop. **Now**." She gave a pointed glance toward Todd, who was wordless and all too quiet in the whole situation. "You are not helping things."

A slow nod was all he could manage, rubbing his slightly reddening cheek, and Tabitha turned to Charles. "Where is he. We're going."

Despite her decisive and demanding tone, he repeated the previous words, the same words he had said over ten times now, during all the commotion. "Tabitha—everyone—I know you all want to go and help Lance. But he is under a lot of stress right now, and if we were all to go, I think he would feel overwhelmed."

"So only we'll go," Pietro snapped. "We're going."

"I'm going too," Kitty stated.

"I'm sure we would all like to go, but it's simply not the best way, and this is only letting what little time we have slip by. Now, I think it will be best if-"

"I'll go." This time it wasn't one of the Brotherhood members that spoke up, or even one of the students at all. In fact everyone turned to stare at the unexpected volunteer. Charles regarded him for a moment, before nodding solemnly.

"...Yes, I think that would be best, Logan."


	9. Chapter 9 Incapable Ineft Insufficient

**Chapter 9. Incapable. Inept. Insufficient.**

He was sure he looked strange. A thick black bandana pulled up over his face hid most of his face, and with it the extensive slashing. Over that he had put the helmet on, covering all but his eyes successfully. But now that he was pulling the motorcycle by hand, away from the main road, he was sure he looked perfectly stupid with the helmet still on. Not that he felt this was reason enough to take it off.

The bike had run out of gas. He, being the idiot that he was, had forgotten to check the gas meter and to refill so he could, in fact, continue. He had to be the worst runaway in the history of all runaways. He was inept at even this. He really couldn't be surprised though.

* * *

Well, not until he heard the faint noise of engines. Huge engines. And not from any car. He looked around, doubling back twice even, to make sure no cars were on the road, and the highway was clear, free of any other travelers. The noise came from the sky. He looked up, fearing the worst. 

And his fears were confirmed.

The X-Jet.

It was still far enough away that he hoped he would not have been spotted yet, but close enough that he could identify it. He nearly panicked, but the last remaining bit of sense left in him screamed to hide, and for once he listened. Hastily he rushed the bike off the road and to the nearby forest. Between the trees, behind some form of large shrubbery, he hid the bike, doubting that both he and the vehicle could hide in the same area and not be found. So instead he selected a different bunch of bushes to hide behind, creeping closer to the road to see if the jet was still headed for him. It was worse than that. It was landing. And right nearby, on the empty highway. Lance realized then that perhaps taking the most deserted road possible had not been the smartest of ideas. The jet couldn't possibly land in a crowded, populated area. He tacked it up on the long list of stupid things he had done in his life, adding it on as the new ninth.

He bumped it up to the fifth three seconds later. Because it was then that he realized just how bad the situation really was. Because it was then that he saw who was stepping out of the jet.

He was dead. Dead. Deader than dead. Words could not describe how bad the situation was.

Wolverine.

'He's gonna kill you for taking his bike!' his mind screamed at him.

'Oh shit,' was his next thought at realizing that without the bike, and up against Logan's mutant senses, he had no chance of running and succeeding.

But he tried anyway.

* * *

Ten minutes later, he was on the ground, on his back, with adamantium claws at his neck and a firm hand on his chest. 

"Now, are ya gonna try to run off again if I let you up?"

"..." Obeying the command that had been given earlier, the teen looked at him, if not in the eye.

He shook his head slightly, not able to move enough for a full 'no' due to the adamantium blades.

"Good," Logan moved, allowing the teen to get up.

Three seconds later Logan was grabbing him and pinning him back down.

"Rocky, that's the second time. I'm getting tired of this. This is the last time I'm gonna ask. After that, I'm not doing this with words. You understand?"

He nodded faintly, trembling, fear obvious in his eyes, especially at Logan's growl.

"Answer me. In words."

"...I-I understand."

"Good. I want you talking, not just nodding or shaking your head. Got that?"

He almost nodded again, catching himself at the last second. "Y-yes."

"Good. Now- don't lie- are you gonna try to make a break for it if I let you up?"

"...yes."

Logan let out an exasperated sigh, and Lance flinched, cringing away from the adamantium.

Seeing that, Logan sheathed his claws once more, though the hand remained on Lance's chest, keeping him there. After a moment of staring at the teen- who now had his eyes down and was not meeting his gaze in the least- he spoke.

"...I'm gonna let you up now. I'm not gonna hurt you. And you are not going to try to run off."

He was silent, but Logan knew, as he moved away, that the teen would not do otherwise.

And when Lance cautiously got up, he stood still, though there was obvious hesitation in him.

"Good. Now tell me why you ran away."

"..."

"Shakedown..."

At the tone, he backed away, his back hitting the trunk of the tree behind him, and Logan sighed.

* * *

It was quite possibly the worst scenario ever. He was sure he was going to die, if not by Logan, from the panic rising in him, identifying the inevitable and yet, as always, unable to stop it. 

He had to get away. The motorcycle was not a choice. He could not run fast enough, Logan would surely catch him again. And if that happened... Lance knew better than to doubt the nature of threats, regardless of who they came from and what they declared. If he was caught again, Logan had said he would not be doing things with words. Lance knew the meaning of that all too well.

But still he had to get away.

He had to try at least. He couldn't just stand by and wait for it to happen. He was so tired of doing that. He had to act. For once. He had to act.

Never mind that he would fail within the next minute.

When Logan sighed, he took the chance, hoping to catch the man off guard, though even as he ran, he highly, highly doubted it.

* * *

Tree, tree, tree, dodge Logan, tree, tree, tree, dodge Logan, tree, shrub, tree, dodge Logan, tree, tree, dodge Logan... the pattern was repeating, but he knew the X-man was closing in on him. He wasn't one to boast his speed—sure he wasn't slow, not by any means, but he much preferred strength to speed, and had always worked on the first rather than the latter. 

And until now, that had worked fine. Until now. Strength gave him nothing against Logan. He knew that all too well. And with his speed faltering with every second... he was desperate. And did the only thing he could think of. He turned and lashed out, the earth coming to life upon his will.

...he had forgotten that he really wasn't supposed to do that now. He did remember as the unwelcome avalanche in his head returned and felt himself fall, despite his attempt to catch onto the nearest tree and remain standing.

* * *

Logan was really wishing that he had brought Ororo or Hank—or even Charles though he doubted that Charles could physically pursue Lance in the woods as the present situation called for—along, instead of coming alone. He wasn't getting through to the kid. He really, really wasn't. 

He nearly tripped, dodging the attack. Damn it all. The kid was even attacking now. He had thought that the teen would be too intimidated to do so, but obviously he had thought wrong.

Unfortunately he wasn't the one truly affected by the attack. He rushed over as Lance stumbled to the ground, but as he approached the teen, he realized he didn't know what to say, and had to slow down.

"...Lance."

Not the best thing he could have said, but still, maybe not the worst.

"Stay away from me!"

Or maybe not.

* * *

He had to get up. He had to get up. He just... couldn't. His legs would not work. He could barely keep his thoughts clear, what with the pounding in his head. 

He was failing. Miserably. As he always did. He was used to it, yes. But still, it was so... so tiring. Frustrating. He wanted to scream. Why was it that he couldn't even do this little thing? Why?! Why couldn't he even run?!

"...Look Shakedown. I don't know why you're running away, and I want to find out, but I'm not going to hurt-"

Why he was running away?

Why? Wasn't it obvious? Wasn't it obvious!

He was too tired to even scream, though he doubted that would help anyway. Instead he settled for clenching tightly at the dirt ground, trying to hold up, trying not to do anything to make this even worse.

...and failing. He couldn't contain his thoughts, he couldn't calm them down. His emotional lack of control always got him into trouble, he knew. He just couldn't help it, the frustration.

Why couldn't people just leave him alone! Why couldn't they just let him run away?! He knew the trouble he took everywhere, the least he could do was try to prevent more!

Why?? **Wasn't it obvious?!**

"He's after **me**, not anyone else! As long as I'm not there, he won't bother to attack!"

* * *

Logan was startled by the sudden shout. Scream, more like. It took him a full four seconds to even comprehend what Lance had burst out. And another two to realize who Lance was referring to. Sabertooth. It was all about Sabertooth. 

"Wrong, Shakedown. He's always been after me. But I haven't run away because of it."

He thought he had responded decently. It was the truth, and he didn't think he had spoken too roughly. It was a decent response, probably. Probably.

It became apparent that he was terribly mistaken.

Lance looked up, the chocolate brown eyes glaring up at the older man with hatred for his incapability to understand, the anger in him overpowering the fear for this moment.

"**You**! You're different! You're **stronger** than him!" the fury in the teen's voice left Logan speechless.

Pulling off the helmet, Lance stumbled to his feet, somehow managing to remain standing if only just barely, leaning heavily against a tree.

"**I** can't do anything against him! I **can't** protect them from him! All I can do is run! But I can't do even that!" His voice failed him by the end of the screams, and he crumpled against the tree, a fist pounding against the trunk, casting blame he did not know where to direct.

Logan could not respond. Lance did not speak. It was full minutes before even a breath could be heard. And Lance let out the faint, resigned sigh, a weak question following it.

"...are you going to kill me?"

* * *

What could he possibly do. What could he possibly say. 

He didn't know. The kid managed to stun him like no one else could, or ever had before. Between the complete fear and angry outbursts, as well as the former, usual rebelliousness... Logan was lost. But he couldn't just stand there, especially not after such a question had been asked. He decided to give up on reasoning out his replies first, and fell to impulse, hoping with doubts that his gut reactions would not fail him.

"No, Rocky. I came to get you. I'm taking you back."

"...and if I won't follow you?"

Ho boy. He really hoped he was doing this right. If not... well Logan was going to be giving Chuck one hell of a mess to clean up, if Lance fell back to complete and utter terror again. "...I won't take no for an answer. You're coming with me. And the next time you try a stunt like this, especially while you're sick, you'll be answering to these," the distinguished 'snikt' was definitely heard. "-understand?"

Okay. Now brace for the impact.

"...yes."

No kidding. That had worked? Logan had no idea how, and it seemed to defy all logic to him, but it seemed that way. Well, no sense wasting the good, if unexpected, results.

"Good. Now tell me where my motorcycle is. We're taking the jet back."

* * *

He secured the motorbike in the cargo hold as quickly as he could. He was still unsure as to whether Lance  
would willingly follow or not, despite the answer he had gotten, and the fact that Lance had quietly followed him to the cargo hold as asked when he brought the motorcycle in. 

So when he turned back around, he half expected the teen to be gone, run off again.

He hadn't moved, head down, gaze to the ground, standing still.

"Get moving. We're taking off, and you need to be seated."

"...yes."

He was subdued, but not completely- Logan noted the lack of the 'sir' that would take place had he been. Logan wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not, even as he watched Lance silently walk to the passenger area, eyes down. The teen paused at the seats in the back, but walking in behind him, Logan directed him towards the co-pilot seat, and he complied, without a word still.

The jet lifted off with the two wordless, neither making any interaction, much less conversation.

* * *

An hour and more passed before either spoke. 

And even then it was one tentative, faltering and ultimately timid word of a question.

"...Wolverine?"

"What." It wasn't really intentional, but one could not deny the fact that he was being rather brusque. He couldn't help it though. He didn't know how to react to the kid anymore, and so far this seemed to work best... so far.

Noting the rough tone, Lance hesitated, lowering his gaze more, turning away once again. "...n-nothing. Never mind."

"You had something. What was it."

"It was nothing-"

"Rocky."

The slightest of growls lining the insistent demand forced the matter out of him, however slowly and reluctantly it may have been.

"...If... if I hadn't taken your bike... would... would you still have come to get me?"

Despite the fact that he was piloting, Logan turned to look at him at that. But Lance wasn't joking, as Logan had subconsciously hoped, yet at the same time known better about. Lance truly believed that the machine was valued more than he was himself. Somehow, Logan understood now, at least a little.

"Yeah. Now stop asking stupid questions and go to sleep- it's a while before we get back home."

"...yes sir."

* * *

They landed, and by then it was already early morning. Lance had fallen asleep, though whether due to the fact that he was tired or due to the fact that he had been told to, Logan did not know. 

"Hey, Shakedown, get up."

The sentence was enough to stir the teen. He opened his eyes, and, at realizing that he was staring face to face at Logan, quickly looked down, averting his gaze.

Logan merely reached over and pulled him up to his feet, ignoring the flinch that passed through the teen at his touch.

"Let's get inside," he said, picking up Lance's duffle bag.

Lance nodded, and followed him out without a word.

When they reached the door, Logan paused. It was... he knew he had to do something, but he didn't know what. So he did the only thing that came to his mind. And reaching into his pocket, he took out the keys that the teen had taken out of the emergency box. He looked at Lance, and noticed that the teen had recognized what he was holding, and was now looking fairly uncomfortable, as if expecting to be scolded, and much worse, for taking them.

Without hesitation, Logan held the keys up.

"Look at me."

He fidgeted, but after a few seconds, looked up, just enough that he wasn't being disobedient about the frequently given command, barely up to Logan's shoulders.

"The next time you want to go for a ride, you don't steal the spare key."

He nodded faintly, gaze falling. But Logan dropped the duffle bag and his now free hand tipped Lance's head back up. "You take your own keys, got it?"

He took Lance's hand and placed the keys in it, letting go of both his hand and his face then.

Lance stared at him, apprehension forgotten. His hand remained still, in the air where Logan had left it, the keys lying on the half open palm.

Logan merely picked up the duffle bag again, and opening the door, headed inside.

"Come on, Shakedown, the kids are probably still up, waiting for you."


	10. Chapter 10 Jest not Joke not

**Chapter 10. Jest not. Joke not.**

She had wanted to do something right for once. Just once. But she couldn't. She couldn't even do the least. She had failed them, unable to stop Sabertooth, forcing Lance to do it himself. And then he had run off, probably feeling responsible for the whole thing. At least Logan had managed to bring him back, but...

"Smith, sigh any louder and you'll bring the world down to its knees with your depressing mood."

A slight grin she managed, looking up. Seven weeks of working, and her boss could somehow already see through a little of her guards. She found it disconcerting and yet nice at the same time. It was kind of... she imagined he might care, at least a little. It was new, different... quite frankly strange. She wasn't really used to anyone beyond the Brotherhood caring. Actually, she wasn't quite all used to that yet either. The fact that her boss seemed to kind of care a little... it really was strange. She didn't quite understand it, especially since he had only known her for about two months now, and she certainly didn't understand how he could already tell a little when she was tired. It worried her a little, as she didn't like it when people could see through her like that, even the tiny bit, but for some reason, it didn't make her dislike him more, or act more hostile towards him as she usually would. Just a little more distance, and she was fine with him again. Normally her response would be to block him off completely. It really was strange.

"Don't worry boss, I won't make the world collapse until after my shift is over."

* * *

A week had passed since Lance's leave and return the next day. Though no one made even a verbal notice of them, he had asked for a holowatch akin to that of Kurt's, to hide the scars on his face from Sabertooth. Though it was with a little reluctance, as he was never eager to encourage kids to hide themselves, Charles agreed. This occasion, the matter was too critical to deny—it was too obvious, Lance's fear of Sabertooth and the reminder the scars played as. 

With the new watch, Lance had settled down, calmer and slowly getting back to a comfortable state of mind. Still Charles saw him checking the holowatch frequently—concerned that it might malfunction, worried that the scars could be seen. With the exception of that however, he had managed to get back to normal life, and seemed to even be excited along with the rest of the students about Thanksgiving, which was just a day away now. He had gone so far as to go grocery shopping with Kitty and Rogue, if insistently using the excuse of testing out the holowatch, and accompanied by the rest of the Brotherhood save Tabitha, who had been at work.

In fact, the entire Brotherhood seemed particularly enthusiastic about Thanksgiving. It was almost two whole months since the Brotherhood's arrival, and they were more comfortable now, open about their enthusiasm, taking part in the discussions and decisions for the day and its events, especially the choices regarding food. The mansion was less divided now than it had been on Halloween, and Charles was glad that there seemed to be a slow but steady gain of trust amongst the students. Though there was still the unstable relationship between Lance and Scott, as well as the still undeclared dislike Tabitha seemed to harbor for Rogue. As Rogue did not return the hostility, and herself admitted she did not know the reasons behind it, Charles could only wait and hope that it would resolve itself, though Tabitha seemed unwilling to make any changes yet. In any case, the only new thing with Tabitha was that she now went on walks alone in the morning, early before most of the other residents were up. Since it seemed harmless enough, and indeed seemed to help, as she returned usually in calmer moods, Charles did not interfere.

* * *

"Boss, can I leave early tomorrow?" 

He answered without looking up from the book, informing her of the date as he often found himself doing, "Smith, it's Thanksgiving tomorrow. We're closed."

"Oh yeah. We are, aren't we?" The question was more of a quiet personal musing. For some reason, she felt a little disappointed. Illogically so, since she should really be thrilled to have a day off—she was never one for work, after all. Well, whatever. She could never explain herself anyway. "Well, have a good Thanksgiving boss."

He stopped from his examination of the sales book at that, and looked up. "...Smith, do you and your brothers have plans for Thanksgiving?"

She glanced over, pausing her own pen. "...We're having dinner with... some friends. Why?" He seemed... relieved? She wasn't sure.

"I was just curious. A girl like you could easily drag a boy away from a home dinner for a date, I'd imagine. Thanksgiving should be with family, so don't go doing things like that, Smith."

"...Boss, you're weird."

"So you've informed me."

"I only do it because it's the truth," she flashed a trademark grin before going back to her paperwork. "So do I come in on Friday, or are we closed then too?"

"For someone that falls asleep as much as you do on your shifts, you sound like you're eager to come to work, Smith."

"Hey, I can't help it if your Chinese takeout has won me over. 'Sides, working here isn't half bad, boss."

"Glad to hear that. But we are fortunately closed on Friday and Saturday as well, so you can catch up on your sleep and better establish your personal relationships— go see a movie with your friends or something. For a teenager you don't go out much do you, Smith. I swear, you're unlike any teenager I know. You're in here every weekday and you have a long Saturday shift, but you never miss a day."

"Well I'd come in on Sundays too, but we're closed then, so I stick around doing taxes at home instead." The joke didn't close the topic as she intended, and though she kept her gaze on her work still, she knew he was looking at her.

"And don't you come to work straight from school—I don't believe that a girl like you has a social life that's so restricted to work and school, Smith. Your brothers must miss you at home; you're here so often." He was joking, she knew; they always joked; but she had already stopped writing.

"...you'd think, wouldn't you."

He looked up once more at the quiet voice, but she was already continuing with a joke in her normal voice. "Nah boss. My brothers and I ditch school sometimes and we go watch a movie then. It adds a sense of thrill outside the cinema."

* * *

"Hey, Alvers." 

He turned around at the voice, if a little hesitantly. "Yeah, Summers?"

Not unexpectedly, Scott seemed hesitant as well. Their relationship had been quite awkward the past weeks, passing through the stages of usual angry encounters to hesitant neutrality to avoidance... and their current stage of awkwardness. Now, both of their respectful groups were mingling more, and they found it hard to avoid each others' company as they had done in the last few weeks, but that didn't mean they were necessarily comfortable with it. Neither knew how to act around the other in this new situation, and neither was willing to admit it, but neither wanted to jeopardize the current peace. So the awkwardness was all they could muster up.

It was kind of strange... somewhere along the line, Lance had realized, he wasn't quite so... angry, to see Scott Summers anymore. The feeling had just... washed away somehow. Maybe it was because he was too busy with other things now, or maybe it was that they saw each other outside of school and in home environments, or maybe it was out of necessity since they saw each other more often, or maybe it was just that... well, maybe they were actually getting along or something crazy like that, but whatever it was, at least they weren't trying to kill each other and ruining it for the rest of the Institute.

"...I just wanted to say... well, I know you don't have your jeep anymore, so," he was rubbing the back of his neck, something that Lance had noticed he was doing more often around him, at least when they were just by themselves and the awkwardness increased tenfold. "If you and Kitty want to go see a movie or something sometime, well, take my car, you know?" A cough.

Maximum awkwardness.

"...Uh, yeah, all right... um... so..." he too had to cough before he could make the attempt, even then burying the word behind the stray cough, "...thanks, Summers."

The X-Man's gaze shifted from the wall to the Brotherhood leader, and the two looked at each other for a minute before each broke out in a slight grin.

* * *

The familiar ring of her alarm alerted her to another morning. Another morning, another day. More attempts. More failures. She expected the trend, but forced herself out of bed regardless. After all, she was known for being spontaneous and unexpected... perhaps her life would take after her in a positive light for once and she'd see some success today. 

After the Sabertooth incident, she had been waking up an hour earlier than normal, using the six o'clock peace to stumble half-awake outside and venture out for a walk down to the beach side of the institute. It was a slightly long walk, but she walked quickly, and the beach was always deserted and quiet, not to mention free of flammable wood as the closer forest area was, so it served her purpose well.

* * *

She had long since discarded her jacket a few feet away, the extra garment proving to provide far too much extra warmth, though the late November morning was chilly. She was breathing hard, drops of sweat rolling down her face. 

It was getting more and more difficult, and improvement was nowhere in sight. Timing, potency, number, reabsorbing... they all presented themselves as new tests.

She used to have perfect control. They had exploded with the expected few seconds of waiting time, and they had always had about the same power, just as she intended. Single productions had not even a matter to be concerned with—it came naturally to her, whether it was one or many.

But now... all of a sudden it was getting hard. She didn't know why, but she knew she had to regain control. She couldn't afford being late again as she had been against Sabertooth. Which had forced her to wake up earlier for a morning training session with herself; they made up for all the danger sessions she was skipping now, using the excuse of work. Of course, even in the sessions she attended, she made a point of not using her powers, although she denied the claim when Lance noted it. She would not use her powers in front of anyone, not until she had control over them again. She had no intention of letting anyone know about this small difficulty, not when things were just calming down after Lance's ordeals.

* * *

Today things were going a little better than usual. Enough that she ventured on to practicing reabsorbing, though she preferred not to do this every day, due to its more difficult... dangerous, nature. 

'C'mon Tabby, you learned to control your powers when you called yourself Time Bomb; you can do it when you're Boom Boom. If anything you should do it faster, being a full-fledged Brotherhood mutant, and with all the experience you've had...' the thought wasn't as reassuring as she wanted it to be.

With a deep breath she opened her hand, and as she had intended, a single bomb formed in her palm.

'So far so good... now, reabsorb it-'

"DAMN!"

She didn't move quite fast enough, and the bomb exploded still with a feather-light contact to her hand.

Biting back a scream, she fell to her knees, cradling the wounded hand with her unharmed one. She would have cursed at seeing the blood streaming down her hand, if she hadn't been so sure she would scream the moment she let herself open her mouth. Clenching her teeth, she staggered back up to snatch the jacket from its spot on the ground; she wrapped it around the hand, grimacing as she noticed the blood seeping into the cloth with little difficulty. That was another piece of clothing she had managed to ruin. With these unstable morning practices, she was burning and ruining clothes a lot more often than she liked. Though she doubted anyone would find the traces, she took care to shift the sands around the several blood drops that had fallen onto the sand, and it was then that she realized some had also gotten on her shirt. But she would somehow hide that, if she encountered someone as she walked back into the mansion. She had to, so she would. Yes. It would not be a problem. She couldn't afford to be found out.

* * *

"Tabby, Fred said you had my glov- Tabby, why are you wearing my gloves?" 

She looked up from the toast she was smothering jam over, flashing a grin to make up for the fact that she could not wave around the newly-adorn hands due to the toast and butter knife.

"I wanted a new accessory, but I'm broke until I get paid for this month, so instead of jewelry I settled for your gloves. This is your extra pair anyway, right?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"Don't worry Lancey, I'll buy you a new pair to make up for it with my share of the pay next week."

He shook his head, and though she saw the concern in his eyes, she feigned ignorance. "That's not what I meant. You... you're okay, right Tabby?"

She knew what he meant. She knew what he was worried about, because she knew what Lance's reasons were for wearing gloves all the time, what they hid. Why he always covered up his wrists. But hers was not the same case, and she wished she could tell him they were just hiding the bandages from a minor power malfunction, not from a feeling of abandonment or any emotional issues like he had had the few years ago. She would have told him too, to get the concerned look out of his eyes, but she knew she could not tell him about her powers going awry. It would perhaps worry him just as much, or worse, even more.

"I'm perfectly fine," a small smile to show her genuine well-being, she made sure to add. She didn't want him to worry himself over this, especially not in his present condition. "Can't get sick on Thanksgiving. A girl's gotta enjoy the feast, you know."

He smiled back a little, though it wasn't hard to see that there was still some worry left in his gaze. "...You'll tell me if you're not-"

"I am fine, Lance. Really... though I would be happier if there was kiwi-lime pie as well as the apple and pumpkin planned for dinner tonight. I still think it fits Thanksgiving fine."

He grinned in accordance with the jokes, their chosen method of reassurance. "Well I'm just happy there's pie at all. And the way everything's being planned, it looks like there'll be a lot of food, period. It's weird, but I'm... kind of looking forward to it."

"Me too Lancey."

* * *

"I still think it's not going to work, Roguey." 

"Pietro. Ah have ta try at least."

He frowned, crossing his arms. "I know that. But you can't rush this kind of stuff with Tabby. She'll let up on you with a little time."

"Pietro, she's been glaring at me since she got here, an' Ah don't even know why. Ah think Ah should talk ta her."

"I told you why. You did leave us, so she's probably got a grudge against you for that. Don't tell anyone, but Tabby's kind of protective about us," he shrugged, feigning frivolousness. "Don't worry, it'll go away, you just have to give her some space."

"Ah don't know, Pietro. Ah really think Ah should talk to her."

"Talk to who?"  
Both teens turned at the new voice, and were greeted with the sight of Lance... and Scott.

Raising an eyebrow, Pietro made a point of clearing his voice before speaking. "Tabby. So... Summers, how's life?"

"...Fine, thanks. Um, Rogue, I think Jean wanted your help in the kitchen."

"Mah help? For what?"

"For keeping Kitty away from the kitchen."

"Ahh." Shared sentiments of understanding between all four teens, and Rogue got up. "All right Ah'll go, but her Romeo's gotta come too. Ah don't want to handle Kitty an' her love of cooking all by mahself."

The statement was not all in jest and Lance nodded. "Right, sure."

As Rogue, Scott and Lance started for the kitchen, Pietro got up with an indignant huff, joining them as well, "Well I'm not going to be the only one sitting here; I'm coming too, just keep Pryde's cooking away from me."

Glancing at the white haired teen, Lance rolled his eyes. "Pietro, you're hardly one to talk. I really don't know which is worse, your cooking or hers."


	11. Chapter 11 Knights of Fantasy

**Chapter 11. Knights of Fantasy.**

"So what's with you and Roberto, man?"

"Sunspot's still mad from yesterday's fight," Ray shrugged, taking another drink of his soda before reaching for a chip.

"Man, you guys fight way too much," Fred mused, taking some chips for himself as well.

"Ha, I don't think we should be making claims of fighting any less, Freddy," Pietro commented, presently hogging the popcorn bowl and so far, miraculously unchallenged for such glory.

"I think you all fight way too often," Jubilee stated, leaning back in her chair.

"Maybe it's a guy thing, Jubes," Amara mused. "Is it?"

"No it's definitely not a guy thing," Sam shook his head, "Didn't you see the way Rogue and Kitty fought over the hair dryer this morning?"

Bobby nodded in agreement. "Man that was scary. If I hear of another incident where someone-" he gave a glare toward Ray's direction, though Ray himself was unconcerned, "-fries most of the electronic appliances in the bathroom while fighting with Roberto, I'm hiding until new hair dryers are bought."

"Yeah, but don't call that scary yo. Then we don't have anything to call Kitty and Pietro's cooking."

Pietro shoved an elbow at Todd, indignant at the comparison that many seemed to be making after seeing his first attempt to cook at the mansion a few days ago. "Hey I am NOT as bad as Pryde."

"You are too," Jamie assured, taking the chance to snatch some popcorn from the bowl Pietro had momentarily slacked off on protecting.

"Hi everyone," Kitty greeted, walking up with Lance, Jean, Scott, Roberto and Rahne. "Ms. Munroe said our shift's over now; your turn to help out in the kitchen."

"You as in team two: Pietro, Ray, Amara, Sam, Evan, Kurt, and Tabby," Jean clarified.

"And Evan, Kurt and Tabby are already there, so you four just have to join them," Scott informed.

"Though, maybe ye shouldnae cook anythin', Pietro," Rahne mused. "Tae be honest wi' ye, Pietro, ye don' cook very well."

"That's it, everyone stop talking about my cooking!"

"We really should, it's not good for our health, even talking about it," Lance stated, feigning seriousness.

"Oh shut up," Pietro snapped, getting up. "Just for that, I'm going to go cook something now."

Watching the speedster march off with determination, Ray got up, starting after him. "Yeah, I pretty much don't cook, so I'm just going to go stop him, and maybe the dessert won't try to kill us all."

"We'll go with you," Amara and Sam said, joining him.

"Good luck, you guys," Roberto offered as they headed for the kitchen.

"Oh I'm so glad I'm not on the same shift as Pietro," Jubilee mused.

"Yeah we're lucky yo, we don't have Pietro or Kitty, so we're pretty much safe," Todd nodded.

"I'd say our biggest danger factor is Jamie, and he definitely ranks lower than either of them," Bobby agreed.

"Hey! I'm not so bad!" Jamie interrupted.

"And we are totally right here, you know!" Kitty stated indignantly, before turning to Lance. "Lance, you said you liked my cooking, right? It's not that bad, is it?"

"Um... n-no, of course not. It's great, really. Hey, Summers, pass me some of those chips too."

* * *

Thanksgiving dinner. It was something she found very... awkward. Really. But here she was mashing potatoes up next to Kurt, and not doing so terribly at it at that. 

"Tabby, are you making ze gravy or is zat part of my job?"

"Nah, Evan can do that."

"I thought I was stopping Pietro from getting near the stove?" Evan asked.

"Oh yeah, you're going to be busy with that, aren't you," Tabitha mused.

"Ve should leave ze Pietro guarding to Ray, he said he didn't like to cook after all," Kurt suggested.

"Oh that'll work out. But I still don't believe he's almost as bad as Pietro, like he says," Evan said.

"Oh not here too! Is my cooking the topic of the day or what?!"  
"For your information, we were talking about Ray's cooking," Tabitha spoke, glancing over at the white-haired teen with a grin

"Which I've already said, is pretty bad," Ray confirmed shamelessly, walking in with Amara and Sam. "So Pietro. Looks like I'm going to be hanging back with you, doing the dishes."

"Ve need someone to make ze gravy still," Kurt spoke up, looking at the yet task-free Evan, Sam and Amara.

"I'll do that, it's easy, right?" Evan volunteered. "I'm no chef either."

"So what do we do?" Sam's question was quickly answered with several pointings to the long "To Do" list taped to the cupboards, next to the even longer "NOT To Do" list... and next to that, the longest "NEVER To Do" list.

* * *

It. Was. Fantastic. 

Frankly, he had never seen so much food in his life. Sure, he had expected it, since pretty much everyone in the mansion had stayed instead of going home for Thanksgiving, and had helped make the food (with so many people, it was necessary that they even form official teams for kitchen duty shifts)... but this much food, he still hadn't expected. It was even more than the usual meals at the Institute, which were admittedly large, though they usually didn't all eat at once anyhow except for dinner.

He glanced around, feeling somewhat the need for confirmation that he really was allowed to take part in this feast, and got it, seeing the rest of the Brotherhood already eating, and next to him, Fred suggesting the cranberry sauce.

So this was what a Thanksgiving meal was really like. He had forgotten, after his parents' death. Really, they all had forgotten what it was like... well, except Lance, who never really had it, and... well, Todd wasn't sure about Tabitha. She had yet to tell them fully about her past, or even just a little of it. Still, looking over, he saw her laughing, teasing Roberto, so it seemed like she was having fun too. Next to Tabitha, Pietro was arguing with Evan over something or other, but both were grinning in between their lines. Lance was sitting nearby, next to Kitty and, a little surprisingly, Scott, but they seemed to be getting along lately, which was a relief to Todd. Now that they were kind of getting along with the X-Men, he wouldn't have known what to do if Lance and Scott had started fighting again. Fred, sitting next to him, was now engaged in conversation about the best way to eat turkey with Rogue, Sam, and Jean.

...It was... it felt kind of like they all belonged there. Kind of like...

"Hey Todd, pass Jubes ze rolls, vill you?"

He turned around to his other side, blinked for a second before looking back around and picking up the bowl of bread, and handing it to the fuzzy blue teen, who in turn passed it to Jubilee, who took it with an appreciative smile and a, "Thanks guys."

"Zey're good, aren't they? I baked some of zem, you know," Kurt boasted proudly with a grin. "Hey Todd, who do you zink is the better cook, me or Scott?"

...Yes, it kind of felt like they did... kind of like home. "Definitely you, yo. Scott burned one of the apple pies."

* * *

"I'm telling you, this is a bad idea," he was insistent enough that he grabbed her by the wrist, holding her back. 

"Pietro, Ah want ta know why she doesn't like me, at least."

"I told you-"

"And Ah want ta hear it from her, not your guesses."

"They're not just guesses! And if you talk to her now, you're just going to bring everyone down after a good dinner."

"Pietro. Ah know you're trying ta help, but Ah also know you've been feeling bad because we're not gettin' along. You, Todd, Fred, an' Lance... everyone, really," she pulled away, out of his grasp. "Ah have ta talk to her an' try to make things better."

"...and if you make things worse?"

She paused at that, but the faltering was only for a second. "...At least Ah'll have tried."

He watched her leave, wanting to stop her but unable to think of a new argument against it. "...trying and failing is worse than not trying at all."

* * *

"I'm telling you yo, I can catch anything!" 

"All right buddy, let's go for it," Fred relented, picking up the bowl of pretzels. "Ready?"

Todd gave a mock salute, standing up straight, "I've been ready all my life, sir!"

"Oh go through with it all ready," Tabitha spoke, stifling a chuckle.

"Order from the general, captain Dukes, sir!" Todd spoke, extending the joke.

Fred grinned, picking up the act as well. "Yes ma'am, General Smith! Set to launch in three, two, one!" And with that he tossed a pretzel up into the air, which was then quickly snatched by Todd's tongue mid-fall.

Chewing still, Todd flashed a grin to the two, before saluting Fred again. "Mission accomplished, Captain!"

"Good job Lieutenant! Report to the General!"

"The General is still in awe over the fact that you two are still eating after that huge meal," Tabitha chuckled.

"I'm reputed to be bottomless," Fred shrugged.

"It's the truth yo. Fred doesn't have a limit, he's invincible- hey Rogue!"

At the mention of the X-girl, both Fred and Tabitha turned around, and indeed, walking over Rogue waved back at Todd, though a verbal greeting she did not make until she reached them.

"Hey guys... Tabby, Ah need ta speak ta yah."

The blond had already looked away, reaching for a pretzel though she did not take any. "What is it?"

"Ah'd like ta talk in private. No offense, Todd, Fred."

"None taken," Fred assured.

"...Fine," getting up, Tabitha started out of the room, and after an uncertain look to the boys, Rogue followed.

* * *

"What is it." Though she was making an effort to be civil, her words were chilling. 

Cold enough that even Rogue hesitated for a moment. But she didn't back down. "...Ah'm goin' ta get straight ta the point."

"All right."

"Tabby, Ah don't know what you have against me, and Ah don't know why you're angry at me. But Pietro an' Evan are back ta bein' friends, and even Lance an' Scott are gettin' along. We're ruinin' it for everyone."

"...you mean I'm ruining it for everyone. I'm not going to listen to this. I'm outta here."

An exasperated sigh, and she watched as the blonde turned away. "Why can't yah just accept me? Why won't yah make things easier?"

Though she paused, Tabitha did not answer, and it was only on the second question that she even stopped completely.

"Ah don't understand yah—Ah never did anythin' ta make yah act this way, so why can't yah just accept me?"

"...of course you don't understand me," she didn't turn, but her fists clenched tightly. "But I don't understand you, so it all evens out, doesn't it. I don't know how you could just leave them, knowing what they were like, knowing who they were. They accepted you, and you deserted them the minute you could, even after they had accepted you. I don't get you," she swerved around, and her blue eyes had turned icy. "...and you will never get me. So forget whatever peace you want, because it's not happening."

It took her a second to gather up a response, but she managed to sound almost as strong. "Ah left them, but that doesn't mean Ah deserted them. Ah didn't know them as well as yah do now, and they don't hold it against me for leavin'. Why are yah making a big deal out of it when they're okay with it?"

She was cornered, she knew. She knew she was making things more difficult for them, she knew. And she knew that as the other girl said, Rogue had not known the Brotherhood as well in her leave. The boys had accepted this, and did not hold it against her. But... it was just that. How could they be so quick to reaccept her, to forgive her? They had done it so easily... she didn't understand.

"I don't have answer you!"

* * *

It was at the shout that he stepped out from behind the wall. She was already storming off. He made his way to Rogue, who only stood there, at a loss as to what to do. 

"...I told you not to do it." His quiet voice held no chiding, no air of superiority.

"...Ah think maybe yah were right, Pietro."

He sighed. "Don't worry. I'll go after her. She doesn't hate you or anything, so she'll go easier on you after a little time."

"Yeah... Ah think she's stressed, Pietro. And not just about me."

"...I know. She always is."

* * *

Three knocks. Not of their usual speed, but then again, the times he did actually knock, they were always slower than anything he did normally. 

"Come in."

The door creaked open, first just a gap, then slowly all the way. The white-haired teen stepped in with uncharacteristic hesitation, though he masked it with a grin.

"You feeling all right?"

"I'm fine, Pietro."

"...Tabby, I-"

"You were watching, weren't you."

"...yeah."

"...Sorry."

"No, it's okay. Tabby... I know how you're feeling."

She let out an empty chuckle. "No you don't Quickie. But it's okay."

He sat next to her, on the bed. "I know, because you always told me how I felt before I cleared up the mess with Evan."

"You're not making any sense, 'Tro."

"You know what I mean."

"It's not the same thing, Quickie."

"It's close, isn't it. I blamed Evan for everything because I had no one else to blame. You're doing the same thing, only with Rogue."

"...you don't get it, Pietro." Her voice was soft, but he couldn't let himself stop here. He had to do something to help her. The only problem was, he wasn't sure how. She always did for him, but now that it was his turn, he didn't know.

"You gotta let it go, Tabby. You can't hold Rogue responsible for what happened to us after she left."

She got up. "I'm not."

"Tabby-"

She was already heading to the door. He got up, stepping in between, in her way to the door.

"Tabby, at least talk to me, will you?!"

She looked up, facing him, her grayer eyes like shattered ice against his darker blue. Wordlessly she put a hand on his arm, pushing him lightly away, and reached for the door.

He caught her hand before it could open it. "Tabby!"

Her hand trembled for a second, before tearing away from his grip, the action abrupt and violent in its suddenness.

"**Damn it Pietro, you don't understand!**"

She did not look at him even after the shout, and he couldn't regain his senses to run after her even after the door had long closed behind her.

* * *

She had forgotten that it was almost December. But even the cold breeze of the night did not manage to get to her as she walked down the familiar path. What did get to her was that she was not alone in the thought. 

"Boom Boom? What're you doing out here?"

She managed a grin. "I could say the same to you, Lightning."

Ray frowned openly at the tease. "I told you, just because you call Bobby 'Popsicle' doesn't mean you can call me 'Lightning'."

"Oh fine. You're no fun," she stated with a huff, continuing past him and walking on. At least it was Ray. With Ray, some personal time was understood. Had it been Amara or Jamie or just about anyone else, not so much.

"Hey Tabby."

Or maybe not Ray either.

"You... you don't look too good. You should go in."

She looked back with a smirk. "I've missed a lot of things I should have done, and done a lot of things I shouldn't have. One more won't hurt, Ray."

"All right." She was a little surprised at the easy let off. But then he started walking next to her. "I'll join you then."

She raised an eyebrow, this time not in jest. "You should go-"

He interrupted. "Ah but see. I've missed a lot of things I should have done and done a lot of things I shouldn't have, too. One more won't kill."  
"Hey, I said one more wouldn't hurt, not kill."

He was unaffected even against her crossing of the arms. "I decided to be more dramatic."

"Uh huh. Now I'm going to be dramatic and leave you behind."

"Hey, come on." All of a sudden he was serious again. Damn it, Ray. Not now. "Look Smith, I know what I see, and you helped me once, so I owe you. Give me something to go on here."

...Oh. Yeah. There had been that time. Though the situation had been more explosive with more shouting and powers involved. Aw damn. Now she couldn't even brush him off.

"...fine, Crisp. But no powers this time. I'm going to call you Extra Crispy again if you fry anything with those powers of yours."

He shrugged, feigning innocence. They were no longer so easily angered by each other, though in the beginning they had been quick to start fighting, with the combination of Ray's short temper, Tabitha's teasing nature, Ray's strong pride, and Tabitha's dislike for losing as well. The one time they had both been in a bad mood, they had chanced upon each other on the beach and eventually gone all out. Only to tire themselves completely and end up realizing that they had some things in common, more than they cared to acknowledge or wanted to admit.

"Hey, I wouldn't have done anything with my powers in the first place that time, if you hadn't started first with your bombs."

* * *

She had forgotten that the beach had been their first and last showdown. Near malicious, it had been. They had both been more than ready to let off some steam, and had met the right opponents in each other. Not to mention, with the secluded beach as the setting, they had found no reason to hold back. 

"So, should we follow the schedule and try to viciously attack each other first?"

"Very funny, Crisp."

"Yeah well I don't normally do funny, so why don't you take that role back and I'll be the angry one again."

She glanced at him, and suddenly realized that he had changed in the brief months they had not seen each other. "...you're calmer now."

He shrugged. "Yeah, well, being angry takes a lot of energy. Plus I figured I'm just losing in it anyway, so I might as well do something else."

"Really. I'm seeing the other side of it. You lose anyway even if you're not angry. At least, being angry, we can fight back, huh?"

He didn't answer, and she already knew what he would say. It was strange. For a long moment they said nothing, until Tabitha spoke up, her voice quiet but unaffected by the long period of silence, not intrusive to the calm air.

"...Hey Ray. There's no white knight in shining armour, is there. No one that really understands."

He paused, but this time she knew he would answer. And this time she did not know what he would say, and so, needed to know. "Probably not... but I have a dark horse, at least. So... Boom Boom, if I randomly call you ten years from now and demand that you meet me... don't ignore it."

"...you're too serious now."

"I'm nothing compared to your doom and gloom right now."

"Yeah well my dark horse isn't doing his job very well, then."

They never actually talked about what was troubling themselves, and they never told each other anything about their pasts. With the Brotherhood, she knew everything about them, and that was how she could help. With Ray, neither knew anything beyond the basics as the general public did. Then again, they were much more independent of each other than she was with the Brotherhood.

And perhaps their independence and simple lack of knowledge was why she could tell him these random things, this nonsense that she never bothered to explain. Because he did the same, and as she did not when he spoke to her, Ray did not ask for explanations, and he did not worry in a panic as anyone from the Brotherhood might. No consequences to deal with in the aftermath of a brief period of relief by telling someone. This was their unspoken promise to each other—no consequences.

"...You know what, Ray? If you ignore something long enough, it goes away. It just goes away."

He did not respond for a moment, and she did not speak again. Instead they merely sat in the sand, staring out at the open sea rather than each other. Seemingly unaware of the other's presence.

When he did speak, it was not with hesitation, nor was his voice any different from usual.

"But not forever."

In turn she did not falter, and for once she did not mask the truth.

"No. Not forever. But long enough to keep me sane, even if I do pretend otherwise sometimes."


	12. Chapter 12 Let me help

**Chapter 12. Let me help... or at least let me near.**

He was uncertain. Strangely nervous. At a loss.

In his hand was the note she had left in his room while he was asleep. Just a short, simple note.

_I'm sorry Quickie. Don't worry about me, I'll play nice. And don't tell Lance._

Three sentences. Brief and direct, written in the same writing she employed with casual matters, little explosives dotting the 'i's and taking the place of the apostrophes.

They didn't have school. And she didn't have work, he was pretty sure... pretty sure. She probably didn't... she wouldn't, right? Who had work the day after Thanksgiving? ...no one, right? Not that he could decide on what to do anyway. Three days he had, three days to think of something and act, before Monday came again and the usual schedule of school and work would prevent him from mustering up the courage to talk to her again.

Well, that is unless she had work on Friday and Saturday. Today and tomorrow. She probably didn't... but the fact was he wasn't sure. But really, she wouldn't have work the day after Thanksgiving, would she? ...he wished he knew for sure.

...he should.

* * *

"Hey boss." 

"Good afternoon, Smith. How was your Thanksgiving?"

She shrugged, taking off her jacket and hanging it on the coat rack. "It was all right. Yours?"

"Pleasant. I had a nice dinner with my wife."

She raised an eyebrow at that, glancing over at him even as she picked up the broom. "I thought your kids would be with you. You did go on that whole deal about family and Thanksgiving."

He looked at her, a little startled at first, but soon chuckling. "Miss Smith, I'll have you know, my wife and I don't have any children."

She paused, leaning on the broom, slight curiosity in her eyes. "Really? Man, boss, for a guy that doesn't have any children of his own, you boast a lot of knowledge about teenagers."

"Do you think so? In my defense, my wife is a high school teacher," he answered, before they heard the familiar tinkle of the front door bell, the door opening, and he turned back to the front desk. Leaving Tabitha to muse over the bit of information she had just received, sweeping the back room. When he glanced back once more, she was already finished, sitting down at her desk, flipping through a few stapled pages.

"Smith, it's Monday by the way. The first Monday of December."

She took the joke leisurely, though she already knew what he really meant to say. "Ah. See I thought it was Tuesday today. And November too."

He hid the grin and took the direct road. "Smith, aren't you going to ask me which school my wife teaches at?"

She continued reading as she answered. "Well I thought I'd do some work and earn my pay, boss."

He hid half-heartedly the smile this time. "Fair enough."

"That," she looked up with a grin, "-and I've never heard of a 'Grieco' in my school, so I know she can't be teaching there. I may skip school on occasion, but I still hear enough talk around me that I know who teaches."

Open laughter, and she did not mind. "You're a sly kid, Smith, but she uses her own last name, not mine. Still, I know she doesn't teach at your school, although that's not going to stop me from telling you about her anyway. Her name is Sandra Winston, and she teaches in a public school in the next town. Though I kind of wish she taught at yours; I'd like to hear about how you act in school."

This time it was her turn to chuckle. "Boss, it's a real good thing she doesn't teach at my school, believe me. Otherwise you'd probably have fired me a looong time ago."

"Is that so," he took her joke, but she knew he could tell it was partly serious—he in turn looked at her with half serious eyes, though the spark of concern in them she did not like, and looked away, turning back to her work. He did not pursue the topic further and they chatted about simple matters in between customers and work as usual.

* * *

Three days. And he had done nothing.

Nothing at all. He couldn't figure out what to do. He had lost his chance. And now she was back to acting as always. Acting.

Why couldn't he just know what was wrong as she did with him? She never expressed any need for extensive comfort from anyone, but that didn't mean she really didn't need it, did it? She was human... she was a Brotherhood at that. One of them. They all had issues. It was just that he couldn't figure out hers. And without knowing, he didn't know how to help.

He would have asked Lance. He would have, had she not explicitly asked him to not. Such a direct request he could not deny her, and he had instead tried to work it out on his own. Futile, his efforts had been.

And yet he had still come. Knowing that he had nothing to say, that there was nothing he could do. Because he couldn't bear not going.

So here he was, standing outside the door, waiting for her to come out. Nearly seven, it was now. He knew she said she would be working late, which usually meant seven instead of the usual six thirty, but it suddenly occurred to him that she could be later. Oh well, he was already here.

Fortunately for Pietro, as the days were indeed chillier and the evenings even more so, the door opened five minutes past seven, and the familiar voice of "Later, boss," could be heard, warning him a few seconds ahead of time before she stepped out. And stopped still.

"...Pietro."

"Um, hey Tabby."

The hesitant pause skipped over and she walked up to him, though he was still not meeting her eyes.

"You shouldn't come to pick me up like this. I make you late for dinner. And you were standing out in the cold."  
"It's not that cold yet," he answered. "And I can start later than everyone and still finish faster anyhow."

"Right..." she started walking when he did not move, making her way out toward the road, "So, I got my second paycheck today. I think I'm getting good at this working thing-"

"...Tabby."

"Yeah Quickie?"

"About... you know..."

She looked back then, stopping. "...don't worry about it Quickie."

"Tabby-"

"Don't worry," her tone was firmer this time. "I'll play nice now. Lance says, once a Brotherhood, always a Brotherhood, right?...she was there before me, I shouldn't mess that up for you guys... Quickie, it is cold out today; what are you talking about. Stop coming to pick me up, if you catch a cold, you'll probably give it to everyone."

* * *

_She was there before me. _

He looked up, startled.

Suddenly, it made sense.

But she was already walking off again. Always leaving him behind somehow. She was the only one that could do that, giving him space but leaving him behind.

"Tabby!"

* * *

She answered, but did not stop. "Yeah Quickie?"

* * *

School. Work. Dinner. Sleep. School. Work. Dinner. Sleep.  
Lather, rinse and repeat.

She had taken Lance's role, but they hadn't realized. Instead they had spent the extra time with Lance and the X-Men. They had not taken closer notice of her as they had for Lance when he had been working. The roles had changed, but they had not adapted to it. More stress, worries, concerns... more of everything that Lance used to go through, she must surely have now, but they had given her less. In their rush to adapt to their new lives at the mansion... in their rush to get along with the X-Men... in their rush to live their own lives, they had forgotten her.  
And she had forgotten her own life to help theirs.

"Come on Quickie, you're going to really catch a cold."  
She had paused now, though she did not turn around.

"...Tabby..."

"Yeah Quickie?"

He was holding onto her in the next second, his arms wrapped tightly around her, hands latching onto the cloth of her jacket, closing around it.

She was still.

"...I'm sorry..." he was not crying, but his voice trembled anyway.

"...what for, Pietro," she was quieter. "Don't be. Come on, let's go. If you catch a cold standing outside with me, I won't forgive myself."

"Tabby, Rogue is our friend."

She was stiffer, but she did not push him away, still not moving.  
"I know, Pietro."

"Rogue is our friend," he repeated. "But you're our friend—and our sister."

She did not say anything, nor did she pull away, not even to hug him back at feeling the slight shaking of his shoulders.

"...And just as you would for us," he whispered, holding her.

_"We would do anything for you."_


	13. Chapter 13 Memory & Nightmare

**Chapter 13. Memory & Nightmare.**

It was already the second week of December. Two weeks since... since Sabertooth. Yet he was still having nightmares. Of course, he had nightmares fairly often to begin with, but these days they were nightmares all focused on him. And what he used to do. It was... disconcerting, to say the least of it.

He really hoped that Jean and Professor Xavier had not picked up any stray traces from it. That would be... rather catastrophic, he imagined.

Still, it wasn't as if he could choose to not sleep. The dark circles were unnoticed by all thanks to his holowatch save Hank McCoy, who took care in giving him extra attention and a brief check up each morning. His broken leg had healed completely now; they had already been more or less fully healed during the incidents with Sabertooth, though right after that there had been some concern as to whether he had been injured again or not. The slashes across his face... they had scarred, as expected. Not as hideously as they might have thanks to special care from Storm and Beast, but nonetheless, nothing he wanted to look at. But it wasn't the first ugly scar he had, and he was certain it would not be the last, though he hoped he would get no more so visibly on the face. He dealt with it as he dealt with all things, covering it up in layers and with the gashes too long to be hidden by his bangs, used the holowatch, going about his life normally as before.

And as normal for him, another nightmare would plague him that night.

* * *

_-Dream Flashback-_

_Lance woke to silence. _

_It struck him, how cold the quiet could be. The regular noise and loudness of the Brotherhood house had made him used to the sounds. Now, deprived of them, he felt lacking, incomplete. But silence also meant no Sabertooth. At least, not that experience had taught him. Since Sabertooth had no patience for anything, he tended to leave once Lance fell unconscious. And bearing the cutting stillness of the air was better than bearing the vicious beating of the feral. _

_Still, he was cautious in even thinking of opening his eyes, actually more out of fear than pain, despite the intense burning and drilling he seemed to feel all around him__. W__hich from what, he didn't know__ but he felt near blacking out once more. He dreaded this decision above all else, for it held his fate in its claws, but he also knew that there was no other choice. Not daring to make a sound, trying to suppress his unintended but reflexive quivering, Lance finally opened his eyes. At first he couldn't see clearly, his vision handicapped. He was struck with sudden panic, fearing that his sight had been __compromised__. But slowly things came into focus, and he carefully sat up, doing his best to ignore the searing pain he felt; barely keeping himself from crying out loud- biting down so hard that the coppery taste of blood reached him once more. He choked back a sob, closing his eyes again, no longer wanting so badly to see after all. He couldn't stifle the next sob, and after that more followed. Whatever fate had decided to condemn him to next, he wasn't sure he could live through it. _

_He hoped Pietro had remembered to pick up dinner for everyone. _

_Forcing himself to open his eyes at the sound of footsteps, clearly approaching, he tried to locate the exit and entrance, though it took a few more seconds for his eyes to grant him normal vision. Cold sweat ran down his features and apprehension began the familiar war against will, the short-lived battle once more granting dominance to the first as he trembled. By the doorway the figure paused, reaching for the light, but even in the dim lighting Lance could tell who it was. There weren't that many possibilities anyway. _

_The knowledge that it was not Sabertooth comforted him, but not enough to dismiss the fear, so strong now that Lance didn't even feel the pain as he backed into the wall, hitting it solidly with many a wound. No doubt some had reopened, for he felt droplets of the familiar crimson liquid making their course down his back. That however, granted little comparison to the numerous droplets of sweat that coated him now. _

_As the light switched on, and Lance's eyes slowly adjusted to the change, he found himself staring at the blue-skinned mutant by the doorway. Logic, reasoning, knowledge and experience screamed at him to stop, to look away, for such an act was one of the worst, and defiance never went unpunished. _

_But he was frozen in his terror, and could not move, not even to avoid a worse lesson. _

_She looked back at him for a moment, before her eyes narrowed, and she started over towards him._

_That was when the cold feeling of peril seeped in around him. Snapping his head down, closing his eyes tightly, as if to make up for the previous mistake, he tried to back further away, the pain movement was giving him not registering in his mind. His heart raced. All that passed his mind was that she was mad now. And though Mystique had far more control than Sabertooth, she too, once angered, was prone to moments of blind rage. Realization struck him, this blow more serious than anything ever before. She was mad. And intentionally or not, she would kill him- he knew for a fact that he wouldn't be able to endure anything more than a couple blows in his current condition._

_She would kill him._

_He was going to die.

* * *

_

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP-

He opened his eyes first, closing them again at the light, slowly sitting up. Another one... what he hated the most about these recent nightmares was that they weren't just nightmares. They were real... and thanks to that, he couldn't even reassure himself that they could not bother him during the day.

Memories could be painful that way.

Although... this one, he was still confused about. He remembered it, but vaguely. It had been a particularly bad night... Sabertooth had nearly killed him. And when he awoke... Mystique had entered. He remembered that much vividly—it was hard to forget things that terrified him. But then... then nothing had happened. Mystique had handed him a few rolls of bandages, and without so much as verbal tirade, had left. It was only then that he had, despite his confusion and fear still, looked around to recognize the room as his own and realized that he was back at the Boarding house. Somehow.

And not only that. The scent of healing ointments and creams reached him a step later and he realized that he had been bandaged up. Bandages. Clean clothes next to him on the bed. And on top of his desk, the only other piece of furniture in his room save the bed and a chair for the desk, a cup and a bottle of water. Only then had he noticed how dry his mouth was, but he hadn't dared to move, much less take the water.

It had been... a stupefying situation. And not knowing what to do, he had only remained still. Eventually fatigue overtook him and he had fallen asleep.

Thinking back on it even now, Lance did not truly understand what had happened that night, but now that he remembered it, it had been one of the few times he had realized that Mystique was indeed different from Sabertooth and Magneto. Even if she did not let such a discovery be made too often.

"Lance! Lance, breakfast, yo!"

He snapped out of it, turning to Todd, who was by now waving his arms. "Huh? Oh, sorry Todd."

"Were you spacing out or did you fall back asleep sitting up, man? I've been calling you and calling you! It's breakfast time, and we got chocolate chips yesterday—that means chocolate chip waffles, yo! Get changed and let's go. I'll go to the next room and check on Freddy and Pietro."

"Right, sure. I'll be just a minute."

* * *

"Hey boss."

"Yes, Smith?"

Pausing her pen she leaned on her hand, elbow on the desk. "You know how you said I haven't taken a day off yet? That's like having a perfect record, right?"

He looked at her, a bemused eyebrow lifting. "I suppose, yes."

"Right... and I've kept that for two months now, right?"

"Yes, since you've been working here for two months, I'd say so."

"Hm... you know, I've never had a perfect record in anything before in my life, boss. Not even anything stupid or bad. Kinda feel bad breaking it, especially since this is a good one and I'll probably never have another one."

"Smith, are you asking for a day off?"

"Take the prize home, boss, that'll be a yes."

"I swear, Smith, you say things in the strangest ways," he laughed, "All right, what day do you want off."

"Saturday. I'm going holiday shopping with my brothers and friends."

"Is that so. Leaving me here alone on a Saturday, is that the plan?"

"Well if you want me to do extra time on another day instead, I can-"

"Smith, I'm joking. While we're on the topic—you do have vacation days as well, you know. If you want to take off for the holidays, be my guest. Just tell me beforehand so I don't wonder if you've gone missing and call the police to find you."

"Yeah, like you'd really do that, boss," she chuckled.

"If you didn't show up more than two days in a row, I definitely would, Miss Smith. You do after all, have a perfect record," he answered in their usual joking tone, but the answer itself caught her off-guard. Though they always spoke in jesting tones, he was always genuine about what he said when they chatted, even about small matters. It wasn't something she was too used to, and she still did not expect it, even after two months of working for the man.

"...right, boss. But that's not going to happen, because I'm coming to work. I need the money more during the holidays, you know."

"Smith, vacation means paid leave."

"...Paid leave?" she echoed.

"I'll pay you even for the days you aren't here."

"Seriously, boss? Why?"

"It's a system, Smith. I didn't make it, but I do employ it."

"...Well, I don't want to get paid when I haven't done any work. That's... weird," she didn't know why it felt like charity or even thievery, but she did know this was the one place she was trying to be a normal working person in... And though it seemed there was such a system, she couldn't really understand why anyone would pay someone even when they had not done any work, so she would just not take any of these... vacation days. Strange concept anyway. Or maybe it was perfectly normal and she just wasn't normal enough to get it. Oh this could go on forever. "Besides, I don't have any plans for the winter anyhow. I'll save my vacation days for some other time."

"Your choice, but I'll just say I still don't understand how a teenager like you exists, Smith."

She smirked. "That's because you only know the perfect record me and not the real me, boss. If you knew the real me, you'd hate teenagers and feel sorry for your wife because she has to deal with kids like me as a job," somewhere along the line, the smirk turned into a weak smile, and she didn't know why.

"Hey Smith." Fortunately he seemed not to have noticed.

"Yeah boss?"

"...my wife's wondering what the perfect record employee I have is like. If you want to bring your brothers by for dinner with my wife and I sometime, let me know."

* * *

...What?

She couldn't have heard right. What?

"...are you inviting me for dinner, boss?" For some reason, she was speaking more quietly. She had no idea why.

"Yeah, I guess I am."

She looked at him, questioning the man's brown gaze, but he only looked back at her, not forceful, nor retreating. She didn't know why he would do this. People didn't invite her for dinner. People didn't do that. It was just not something that they did. It didn't happen. So why was he doing it?

...and why was it that she wanted to say yes?

"...I...I've got four brothers, boss. We'll take up too much space and we eat way too much."

* * *

Holiday shopping. Whoever thought of it... well, Pietro would have given them a present too. Shopping for himself, he loved, but when it was shopping for others, well he could live with that too. Besides, he liked getting presents during the holiday season, and shopping reminded him of this.

For now he was buying one gift only however. The entire mansion population had decided to have a huge holiday gift exchange, and everyone had agreed to buy a present within the cost limit of twenty-five dollars. Then the gifts would be gathered in one place, and random selections would take place.

Of course, the fact that most of the residents of the Xavier Institute were planning on going back home over the winter break made it necessary that this huge gift exchange take place this Sunday. Which led to the mass chaos on Saturday—everyone piling in cars and driving out to the mall, all nineteen teenagers—five Brotherhood members, six X-Men, and eight New Recruits. Evan had commented that it was rather crazy, having all nineteen mutant teenagers in one place, but so far, there had been no reports of explosions or the likes. Only an elevator malfunction or two. Though it would have been possible and likely easier if they had all gone separately, Jean had suggested that they all go together, so as to increase the fun by keeping what gifts they were buying a secret while shopping in the same mall—such an act seemed much easier on paper, but once they got there, they had all quickly realized that there were only so many stores nineteen teens could spread out to. Which meant lots of laughing, giggling, hiding and even plotting between the twelve to eighteen year olds.

"Bonjour, mon ami."

What the? He turned around and was puzzled to see the speaker. Mostly due to the fact that he was randomly shuffling a deck of cards, and was dressed in some kind of... well, something one would go to the Danger Room in, only with a trench coat on top. Not to mention the fact that he had... red/black eyes.

Oh.

Mutant.


	14. Chapter 14 New Trials

**Chapter 14. New Trials.**

Red and black eyes.

Mutant.

...Well, mutant, or some guy wearing specially coloured contact lenses. But Pietro was leaning toward the first.

"Who are you and what do you want," he couldn't help the growl in his voice, and he readied himself, in case he had to dodge anything.

The other mutant smirked. Leisurely.  
"Call me Gambit. I've got a message for you. Your dad says, 'have a good winter, and keep in touch.'"

* * *

It was a lively, late Sunday morning. For once all of the mansion residents were up before twelve. And without a scheduled Danger Room session or even a threat of such. Truly it was amazing what the prospect of gifts could do for nineteen teenagers, Logan had to admit. With more than half the Institute's students leaving for the winter, the kids had assembled together and decided on a gift exchange event, to be held today around lunch. He should have known how chaotic it would be. Unfortunately he had not foreseen it, and as such he was witness to the disorder.

"Jamie, the food goes over here, and the gifts go over there!"

"Sorry Jean!"

"Todd, no peeking!"

"I ain't peeking, yo! This is, um, research! Yeah, that's it, this is research, Kitty!"

"Very funny, now step away from the presents, or Ah'll tell everyone what you bought."

"Hey! No fair! I knew I shouldn't have asked your opinion!"

"Summers, here's your car key back! And whoever wanted the pizza with anchovies, take them now!"

"Thanks for picking up the pizzas, Alvers, Roberto, Ray!"

"You're welcome! And Rahne, Amara, Jubilee, you guys lost your bets, Ray, Lance and I didn't fight once the whole trip, so we proved that we're not overly short and hot-tempered! You guys owe us a lunch."

"See, Amara, Rahne, I told you their competitive streak would win out against tempers."

"Ye were right, Jubilee."

"Yeah, this is a good way to keep them from fighting—good thinking Jubes."

"Psst, Bobby, think up some better lines."

"Oh shut up Sam."

"PIETRO get back here with that popcorn, you are not having all three bowls to yourself!"

"You snooze, you lose, Daniels!"

"Can't ve just make some more?"

"We're out of popcorn now, Blue."

"Uh, right, sorry about that."

"It's no problem, Freddy. Ve can catch Pietro."

"Ha, you wish, Fuzzball!"

Oh yes. Chaos. These kids really forced him to act.  
"Ahem," he cleared his voice, but it didn't have the quick reaction it usually did. SNICKT! and heads turned. Sheathing his claws back, Logan spoke. "All of you. Sit down and calm down before you all get extra Danger Room sessions to get rid of your extra energy."  
See, he did have a way with words sometimes. Let anyone else try to get the kids' attention that fast.  
"Ororo, they're all yours."

"Thank you, Logan," Ororo shared an amused smile with the other three instructors before turning to the teens. "Now is everything just about ready?"

The teens shrugged collectively, before Kurt spoke up. "Presents?"

"Check," Jean answered, motioning to the stack of wrapping paper and boxes in the side.

"Food?" Fred asked.

"Check," Ray stated, nodding to the pizzas, drinks and other snacks (save one bowl of popcorn that no one had managed to take from the-lately-on-a-popcorn-obsession Pietro yet—actually by this point it was understood that the bowl would be the sacrifice made to secure the other two bowls of popcorn).

"People?" Rahne shrugged, even as everyone turned to look at her. "What?"

"Okay then, I guess we're ready to start the gift exchange," Scott said.

"Who goes first?"

"Um, youngest to oldest, how about that," Jean answered in response to Amara, looking at Scott and Lance with a small apologetic look, since the three were the eldests out of the nineteen teenagers gathered.

"Sounds good," Lance agreed, much to the happiness of Jamie, the unchallenged youngest at age twelve.

"I get first pick! Yeah!"

"Then Rahne and Jubilee, Bobby, Sam," Todd counted out, taking it upon himself to list the order, "Amara, Roberto- oh and me, yo! Man, I ain't that young or old, I'm in the middle!"

"No one said you vere either," Kurt commented, confused.

"You know, there's too many of us that are sixteen," Pietro remarked. "Me, Daniels, Tabby, Fred, Fuzzball, Ray— hey Roguey, you just turned seventeen before me, didn't you."

"Ah guess Ah did."

"Hey! I turned sixteen too you know," Kitty informed.

"You know we're never going to get our turns," Lance mused to Scott and Jean.

"Yeah, you want to start on one of the pizzas with me, Alvers? Jean, how about you?"

"Good idea, Scott."

"Sure, Summers."

* * *

The gifts had been opened, shared and traded. The food was gone, from the pizzas to the popcorn to the chips and pretty much all the soda they could find. The Sunday afternoon had dwindled to the evening, and everyone had spread around in the lounge, talking in small groups. With Jean, Kitty, Kurt, Evan, Amara, Sam, Bobby, Jubilee, Rahne and Jamie all going back home for the winter the next day, the conversations zigzagged around wildly and even more loudly than usual, as if to make up for the month of quieter days that would come to the mansion with the winter break.

"Rogue keeps saying my new scarf looks too dark on me—what do you think, Lance?"

"Honestly, I think anything looks good on you, Kitty."

"Lance," she giggled, leaning into his shoulder.

"...Kitty, you know how we all made the deal to stick to the gift exchange and not get anything else for anyone?"

"Yes?"

"Well, I broke the rules again," he grinned, presenting her with the small locket. "You mad at me?"

She smiled. "No. Don't tell anyone, but I got you something too."

"Oh you two are definitely paying the fine!"

They turned at the collective shout and the giggles. "BOBBY! JUBILEE!"

* * *

"I still don't see why everyone thinks I'm too young to go to the airport alone!"

"Jamie, you're twelve, buddy," Fred replied, used to the complaints of the youngest resident of the mansion. "And since you needed to go with someone anyway, everyone decided to go the same day and keep each other company at the airport, so it all worked out, didn't it."

"Actually, Ah think it's worse that everyone will be able tah keep each other company. Ah bet Jean an' Ororo will have their hands full keeping an eye on everyone at the same time."

"Kitty, Kurt and Evan are going too. They can help. Maybe," Fred shrugged.

The three considered the thought for a second before coming to the collective conclusion. "Nah. They're going to join in."

* * *

"Hey Pietro."

"Yeah Daniels?"

"Um, here."

As the envelope was shoved into his hands, Pietro could only blink, before raising a single eyebrow. "What's this?"

"Well... all right, I didn't know what to get you, so I just got you a gift card for the mall. You like shopping for yourself, man, you go get something on your own."

"...Daniels, the gift exchange is over."

"I know, and I know we all made the deal, but I just wanted to give you something, for, you know, all the other times I missed... See man, if you had just taken my invitation when I asked you to come back home with me and Auntie O, this wouldn't even be an issue."

"...whatever man, you got me a gift card. That's basically what grandmothers get their grandkids when they're teenagers and they don't know what to get them."

"Oh shut up, you're too picky to shop for."

"You know, I'm going to beat you at this. I will not be bested!"

"If you start ranting again, I'm gone man."

"Oh shut up Daniels."

* * *

"So, um, Jean."

"Yes, Scott?"

"I... well, have a good winter. It must be good going back to see your family. Have fun."

"Thanks, Scott."

"You're welcome... Right, I'm going to check on Kurt, he said he wanted to test out the new soccer ball he got with some of the others."

"...Scott, wait," he turned back around, and she smiled. "Really. Thanks. You made this year a lot easier for me."

"...Yeah, you too."

* * *

"Zis is for you, Todd."

"What? What's this yo? Are you giving me your wallet?"

"Ja. Zis is yours now, so stop stealing other people's."

"...Aw man, Kurt. This is empty, yo."

"Zat is not vhat is important!"

"Yeah I guess. Thanks man."

"You're velcome."

"Yo, you're actually broke, aren't you."

"...Ja. On ze bright side however, I now have an excuse to get a new vallet, vhen I do have ze money."

"So… sometime next spring?"

"Ja, maybe later—I vant to get a new video game too."

* * *

He hadn't been watching her, per say.

It was just that he noticed her as she slipped out from the group, heading out of the room. Of course, he hadn't intended to follow. After all, that wasn't his role. But looking around the room, he saw that maybe he should take the place, just for now.

Todd was in an intense conversation with Kurt, Amara and Sam, trying to convince the three to bring him back souvenirs after the one month winter break; expertly thwarting Sam's argument that he was not going abroad, or even anywhere particularly interesting in his opinion, by stating that Todd personally had never even seen a real farm before, and as such the place was interesting to him.

On another side of the room, Fred was immersed in talk with Roberto and Rogue regarding what to do during the winter, the three being part of the mansion population that would stay for the break (Roberto had been unexpected, but declared his stay with vague reasons regarding a shaky relationship with his father—something that Ray wasn't necessarily supposed to know, but overheard passing Professor Xavier's office a few days ago).

Nearby Lance and Kitty were showing the world the true meaning of… 'insanely sappy', as they continued their Romeo & Juliet romances, apparently exchanging secret gifts with each other. They would definitely have to pay the fine for crossing the rule of going beyond the gift exchange, but Ray didn't really care about it all that much to be the one to demand so.

As for the last possible person, one who had seemed to be particularly clingy around Tabitha lately... well, Pietro was nowhere to be seen. Strange. The white-haired teen hadn't strayed too far away from Tabitha lately.

...Well. In any case, it seemed like he was the only one that had noticed Tabitha's leave. And so, he excused himself from the conversation with Evan, Rahne and Jamie, walking after her. He hadn't followed her out quickly enough that he could still see where she was going, but he had a good idea anyhow.

* * *

"Bobby may have had his crush on Jubes first, but Roberto is definitely getting farther with Rahne. Then again, Wolfsbane actually knows Sunspot likes her, doesn't she. Did you see them at the gift exchange? They definitely told each other which present was theirs and basically got a present for each other. I didn't know DaCosta was so sappy."

"...Ray, what're you doing here."

"Smith, isn't it obvious. I'm playing dark horse. Besides, I was getting tired of all the going home talk back there."

She was too tired to even refute the situation, to refuse the offer. Instead the conversation plunged right in.

"...Hey Crisp."

"What."

"...mind if I ask you something weird?"

"...No. Go for it."

"...family... you know... I don't need it. I mean, you guys are good, and the boys are like brothers to me, and... but, you know... the other stuff? I don't have it and I don't need it. But what is it when I feel weird like that about random people?"

"...You're not making sense, Tabby."

She laughed, but it had the air of a sigh. "Yeah, I know. I'm not making sense to myself, either. I don't know what's with me these days. I keep thinking about weird stuff, you know?"

"I do that every holiday season. It's not that weird," Ray replied. "It's all right to remember it, you know."

"...so you ever feel connected to someone... not like brothers... but kind of family anyhow?"

He had to consider the question for a moment, but he realized what she meant, thought she was not wording things so directly. Parents. She was thinking about her parents again.  
"...No... I haven't done that in a long time. Still, Professor X is, well, you know, a good teacher to me, I think. I mean he did give me a place to stay and everything, and, you know, a normal life," he knew he was showing his reluctance and uncertainty far too openly, but with her it would be okay. No consequences, that was the rule.  
"Does that count?"

"...I don't know. Oh forget it. Hey, your turn."

"...All right..." His turn... no consequences. The rule. Yes. "...so, you ever feel like... like you don't know what the hell you're doing, and it seems like maybe you shouldn't be doing it, but you do it anyway?"

"365 days a year, Crispy."

"You take that road, and I'll call you Smithy."

"Touché, Lightning."

* * *

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five-

He forced himself to stop. He had to stop pacing. He was going to wear down the ground at this rate. But without the movement, the distraction the pacing served as, he again turned to look at the cell phone without even realizing.

DAMN!

Why? Why! And why now?

Did he expect him to call? He must, otherwise he wouldn't have sent the cell phone.

He checked the contacts list again. And for the thirteenth time saw the single entry. Nameless, just a number. But who else could it be.

He expected him to call. He knew that. But even as he knew, he couldn't help wanting to call anyway, even if it meant playing right into his hand, moving exactly as he wanted him to on his little chessboard.

What could he do?

Why did he have to send it?! Why did he have to do this?! Why?!

...and why was he dialing? WHY?!

Hang up. Hang up. **Hang up!**

"...he..hello, father."

He was an idiot. A stupid, hopeless idiot.

* * *

Though he hadn't actually done much during the day, he felt strangely tired. Or maybe he was already missing Kitty. She, along with many of the other residents of the mansion, would be flying back home tomorrow. Lance wondered how often she would be able to call during the one month winter break, especially since to his knowledge, Kitty had not told her parents about him yet. At least, he hoped she hadn't. When she had mentioned that she wanted to tell her parents she had a boyfriend now, he had asked her not to, for fear of what they would do if they found out that their daughter was dating a hood like him. She had argued that they would not act in such a way, but finally relented at his insistence, promising to delay the news report. Surely she hadn't told them yet. Surely.

Yawn.

He really was tired. Glancing over at the other bed, he saw that Todd had already fallen asleep. So perhaps it was just that everyone was tired after the pleasantly hectic day of gift exchanges and temporary goodbyes.

Switching off the light, he decided to opt for sleep rather than ponder over the matter.

_

* * *

__-Dream Flashback-_

_He woke, not knowing how he had managed to fall asleep. Every part of him hurt. He had no idea how badly he was hurt, in medical terms, but it felt worse than any other time before. Shakily, he forced himself up, and then off the bed. It hurt just to breathe, and after the simple act of getting up, he was already panting, deep, ragged breaths leaving him. _

_After a moment of hesitation, he carefully picked up the clothes that had been placed on the bed, next to him, which he hadn't dared to touch until then. _

_Changing was a difficult task, his body stiff and aching. He took extra care not to rip any of the bandages or open up the wounds. After he had finally managed it, he paused, not sure what to do next. But then he noticed the messiness of his room and winced, wondering if Mystique had been angered by its disorderly state when she had entered during the night. Picking up the clothes on the floor and the empty rolls of bandages, he realized that, although he really wasn't sure, he had the feeling that it had been Mystique who had gotten him back home from the base, though if she had been the one to bandage him up, he was even more uncertain. But whether she had bandaged him up or not, he was pretty sure she had brought him home, and for that he was grateful. He was sure he'd be reprimanded for not getting home himself, but that he could probably survive. His room cleaner, his eyes traveled around for other things to clean up, and noticed the lack of the water bottle and cup from last night. _

_He was sure he hadn't lost it—he hadn't dared to touch it—so someone else must have taken it out... It was only then that he noticed how quiet it was, and wondered about the silence of the usually noisy and lively house, only to realize that it was a weekday. Everyone must've gone to school. As he walked downstairs, he hoped that he had been given allowance to miss the day of school, since no one had come to get him, though the creeping feeling that maybe he was supposed to get there by himself did not leave him. Deciding that he'd better make himself as useful as possible, he gingerly headed into the kitchen, where he expected their usual morning disaster. Surprisingly, the kitchen was clean, with the exception of a small pile of dishes in the sink. Wondering if Pietro, Fred and Todd had cleaned up before school instead of after as they usually did, Lance headed over to do the dishes. But he quickly discovered that his strength was far from back yet, when he dropped two of the dishes, and they shattered on the floor. _

_Not even noticing that some of the shards had flown at him, Lance panicked, the punishment for breaking not one dish, but two, immediately realized. He rushed to clean up the mess, not wanting messiness to be tacked onto the list as well. He didn't even realize that by kneeling, the shards were digging into his knees; his shaky hands- from fear as well as lack of strength- couldn't pick up the shards very well. _

"_Leave it."_

_He swerved around, remembering a second too late not to look up and snapping his head down. He hadn't heard her nearing, in his state of panic. The two words sent chills down his back, and more beads of sweat trailed down his face, now from fear more than strain. "I-I didn't mean__ to__-" he stopped when she started over towards him, closing his eyes and bracing for the blow. Not even after she had passed him, and stopped a few feet away, did he move- it was only when she spoke that he opened his eyes._

"_Get up__, Avalanche."_

_He hastened to comply, though the hurry gave him a head rush and sent pangs of pain from all his body. Gaze down low at the floor, he reminded himself not to look up, and managed that despite the surprise he felt at the next order._

"_Go get yourself cleaned up."_

_He was only just realizing that her voice was surprisingly calm, even more so than her usual cold composure. It was unexpected and he didn't know how to handle it. __He swallowed hard, but could only handle a stammer, even though he knew how much she hated it, when anyone stuttered or stammered. _

"_M-Mystique?"_

_She didn't get angry, however. "Your knees__. While you're at it get washed up."_

_He noticed the blood trickling down from his knees then, and after a second of hesitation, nodded and hastily headed for the bathroom. __He lingered there for a moment even after he had finished washing off the light cuts, uncertain and with remaining fear that had awakened from the night before. He would have liked to take a shower, but felt that could wait until after he was certain he hadn't done anything to piss off Mystique. __When he __finally did __emerge from the bathroom,__ it was from giving up more so than discovery of an answer—he had__ no solutions and no idea what to do. He had yet to receive punishment for breaking the dishes, he knew. But first he would have to take care of the broken shards. Cautiously he stepped back into the kitchen, lest Mystique still be there. He was stunned to see that there was no longer a mess, nor any dishes in the sink. And the broom that had been a few feet away had been moved. Anxiety gripping him, he carefully went into the living room, but she wasn't there either. _

_Maybe she had gone to school, he ventured. After all, she did work there, and it would only make sense. _

_Suddenly, he felt tired. The half of a morning had barely passed, and already he was tired. Hoping that Mystique would not be in a particularly bad mood when she returned, he headed up to his room to rest. _

_And walked right into her as she came out of the same __exact __room. _

_He froze. He was relieved he had cleaned up his room earlier, but at the same time, fearing what she would do now._

"_Stay in your room__ and get some rest__."_

_He almost looked up at that, forgetting himself, taken off guard. But if she noticed, she didn't seem to care, as she walked past him and left, closing the door._

* * *

"**Lance! Lance!**"

Lance awoke at the shaking, startled, tense. But he relaxed at seeing that it was Todd, and sat up as he asked the question.

"What's wrong?"

"Tabby needs you."

* * *

He had never seen her in this bad a situation before.

Sure, he had seen her in bad moods before, depressed moods and angry moods alike, but she had always maintained near complete control, something he had always marveled at in secret, as it was something he found impossible to do and was incapable of truly doing. But this... she was nearly at her limit.  
Torn pieces of paper, destroyed pillows, overturned chair... if he didn't know better, he would have thought she was having a breakdown very similar to the way he did them—enraged and desperate. But it could not be a breakdown... Tabby did not breakdown. She had never done so, but unlike Lance himself, she literally never had. No hidden breakdowns like him, no close calls like him. She was controlled in more ways than he could count, and at first he had found it... truthfully, it had disturbed him. That much control didn't come after just anything. She always presented herself exactly as she wanted, and he never found out the reasons behind this, how she could do it and why she did. No one had yet.

...though perhaps this would be the night. The situation certainly seemed enough.

"...Tabby?"

She was leaning heavily against the desk, deep breaths the only real sign that she was reaching her limit. "...I'm all right, Lance."

"Tabby," he walked closer, closing the door behind him, though a big part of him wished he could call at least Pietro in with him. "Let me help."

"Lance... I destroyed it."

He wanted to ask what, but as he reached her, he saw the answer. His gaze fell on the shredded pieces of the photo, and he could guess what it was. The one picture she had left of her mother. "...I..I'll help you fix it, Tabby. It'll be all right-"

She shook her head, and it was then that he realized she was not sad... nor was she mad. No... It was something else, something more mixed with the depression and anger.

He couldn't tell what.

"I thought it would... make me feel better. Make sense of things... but it makes me feel worse, Lance. I've done something stupid again."

"...Tabby..." What was it? Hopelessness? No... Desperation? No... What was it? "I'm so sorry..." he reached out for her, cautious about putting the arm around her, pulling her close; she did not lean into him, and he made up for it by stepping closer. She allowed him that, but no more. He could not comfort her, and he felt powerless when her voice trembled.

"...I can't make the same mistake again, Lance. I can't."

He didn't know what she meant. He didn't know what to say.

"Lance... I won't survive if it happens again. I just... he isn't anything to me. He's not. I can't make the same mistake again."

He realized what it was. Frustration. Confusion.

Finally knowing what it was, he would have tried to help; she did not give him a chance to act on the realization however.

"Lance... I'm sorry about this..." her voice was quieter again, calmer down, though whether it was calm or out of strength, it was hard to tell. He knew her pattern—just as she started going somewhere, she would stop, apologize for waking or keeping him up, and send him back to bed, leaving her alone with her problems. She never would let them know what was wrong, unlike the way they handled their problems. Lance had thought, in the past, that Tabby might just take things differently, and if the method worked for her, then he had no right requesting the reasons and background stories of her issues, regardless of the fact that he did want to know better. As time went on, at times he doubted that it truly worked, but never enough to act upon it, not that Tabitha really gave him a chance to. Today however, it was evident he had to at least try.

"Tabby... you try so hard to be the one that doesn't need anyone... but can't you let me in at least? At least us?"

She said nothing for a long moment, and Lance did not know what to expect, especially when she raised an arm, before wrapping it around him, holding him back at last. Her words however carried all the futility of the world.

"You're stronger than me Lance... but you can't protect all of us. And I won't ask you to."

The two sentences were all he had to hear. They held all the reasons, all the explanations. It wasn't that she handled things differently. It was that she did not want to burden them. Even now she refused to let them know; for fear that it would weigh as heavily on them as it did on her. What she was forgetting was that once the weight was shared, it wasn't nearly as unbearable anymore.

"I'm all right, Lance. Go back to sleep."

"...Tabby..."

"I'm fine. You don't have to stay."

The tone told him to leave- if he respected her and loved her, he would leave. And because he did, he had to.  
"...A..all right. I'll... I'll see you in the morning. Just... call me if you want me, Tabby. We're here."

"...I will. Good night, Lancey."

He nodded faintly, turning around after one last hesitant look at her. "Good night, Tabby..."

After he left, she sank back onto the floor, her gaze falling onto the shredded pieces of paper.

"...You cursed me with these powers... and you blamed me for them. You kicked me out, and I'm never going back. And I'm never making the same mistake again. Ever."


	15. Chapter 15 Operation Holiday

**Chapter 15. Operation Holiday.**

"Bye guys!"

"Kurt man, don't forget my presents from Germany, yo!"

"Good bye, Toad!"

"Wait, Daniels! This is for you. I told you I'll beat you at this last minute gift giving thing."

"...Pietro-"

"Oh don't open it now; it's better than your present anyhow. Not that you ever had a chance, since pretty much anything beats a gift card, but-"

"Pietro, shut up so I can talk... thanks, man."

"I'll miss you Lance!"

"Me too, Pretty Kitty... um, call me, you know? I mean, if you can-"

"Everyday, Lance."

"Bye everyone!"

"Have fun!"

"Good bye!"

"See you in a month!"

"Bye!"

The after dinner goodbyes had been long, but it was understandable since so many were leaving for the winter vacation. After everyone had left, it was only the Brotherhood, Scott, Rogue, Ray, and Roberto that remained. As for the faculty, Ororo had gone back with Evan, leaving Charles, Hank and Logan in the school with the nine students. Unlike Charles and Hank, Logan was still undecided about staying for the full winter period, but with lingering concerns for the Brotherhood, was leaning toward staying.

The nine teenagers had presently splintered into groups, after an unexpectedly awkward moment of standing around. From reasons he guessed had to do with the previous night, Fred had noted the slight tension between Lance and Tabitha. As well as the continued tension between Tabitha and Rogue, though the first was more ignoring the latter now, than openly aggressive. Pietro seemed well aware of the change, and was keeping an eye on things, but seemed rather distracted. Strangely enough, Ray seemed to be keeping an eye on things as well. On the other hand, Todd and Roberto were casually chatting, for the moment unaffected by the slight disturbances in the air, or perhaps just trying to aid in making things more natural. Additionally, Lance and Scott were getting along pretty well now, more or less past the awkwardness at this point. So overall things seemed all right, since generally they were getting along, with only a little bit of tension on occasion. They had all gotten used to life at the mansion now, comfortable and relaxed with both the place and the people. So if he waited... even the last bits of tension would surely go away. Surely.

* * *

Two days since much of the mansion population had gone home for the winter break. Wednesday. Day two of negotiations.

"I told you boss, I don't want to take off for the holidays. I'm not doing anything."

"Smith, you are the strangest teenager I've ever seen!" he laughed, giving up at last with the third attempt. "How in the world one like you exists, I don't know."

"I am not that weird, boss. Anyway you're the weird one. What kind of boss tells their employees to take time off work?" she replied back in half a retort, though she was already starting to grin, having won the discussion and satisfied with the outcome.

"Particularly nice bosses, I suppose," he stated with a chuckle. "But let me get this straight. You have no plans at all for the holidays? No plans whatsoever? I don't believe it."

"Believe it boss. I have nothing. Well, except Christmas day and eve, I guess. Do we work then?"

"No, we don't. And before you ask, yes we open on the twenty-sixth. And you're telling me you have nothing else planned at all?"

"Geez boss, you make it sound like I'm telling you the world is flat or something."

"Well I'm just surprised."

"Well don't be. And now I'm going on my lunch break, so you can stop focusing on weird things and have lunch with me. It's snowing, I want cheese-crust pizza, I'm buying, and I won't take no for an answer."

* * *

"Tabitha, I'd like to speak with you, if you have a minute."

She glanced back around, turning from the door of her room. "...I'm tired from work."

He could easily see the reluctance, but he had expected it. They were all aware of Tabitha's insistent aloofness with them; not that she had ever been one to come to them for anything to begin with. "It won't take very long."

"Really, I'm tired and all-"

"I only need a minute."

She almost relented at last, her hand slipping from the door knob, but that moment Roberto walked down the hall, calling out to her.

"Tabby! We're having a new holiday thing! We're meeting up in the rec room, come on! Oh, hi Professor."

Tabby gave a shrug of, 'hey, not my fault', before taking Roberto by the arm and leading him toward the rec room. "Come on Sunny, let's go see what this is about!"

* * *

The new idea had been a simple one. Another gift exchange on the day of Christmas, so the festivities would remain until then and they would not feel bored the day. The idea had been from Scott, and Todd had agreed most eagerly, the first to do so. After that everyone followed suit, not against the idea of another event. Ray however, had suggested this time that they pick out names and buy a present for that person, instead of having a random draw. Rogue had identified this as a 'Secret Santa' event, and with agreements around the room, they had dubbed it as such. And so Pietro had scrawled each teen's name on a piece of paper, folded it up, and tossed it in a bowl for picking out.

"No telling who got who, remember," Todd reminded as he took the first pick, having gotten the turn out of pure eagerness.

"Don't worry about it," Roberto replied, taking the bowl and picking out a name himself, the second as he was sitting right next to Todd.

He passed the bowl onto Rogue, who took his turn and passed it onto Lance. Then it was Scott, after him Fred, then Tabby, followed by Ray, and finally Pietro was left the last folded piece of paper. He paused just short of opening it up and reading it, looking around the room, "Wait, are there trades?"

The question was one they had not considered, and collective shrugs were heard around the room.

"I dunno yo."

"I guess we could," Lance shrugged.

"I've never done this before," Tabby voiced, followed by Fred.

"Me neither."

"Like anyone of us has," Pietro remarked.

"Ah have."

A pause and a look to Rogue.

"Ah did it for a class once, all right?"

"Oh."

"Well, anyhow, are there trades or not?" Pietro spoke again.

"Sure why not," Ray shrugged, just wanting to get the question out of the way.

"If we have too much trading though, we'll find out who has who," Roberto stated.

"Let's keep it simple and make it no trades," Scott suggested. "It's not like we won't have enough trouble trying to keep who picked who a secret."

"Sounds good."

"Sure."

"All right."

"Got it."

Collective agreement, and gift exchange established.

* * *

Friday.

Day two of hunting. Day two of failure.

Anyone else, and it would have been easy.

But nooooo. His bad luck had to strike. Damn it.

What was he supposed to get? He didn't know what she liked... she didn't have any particular likes. Sure she liked shopping and all that other stuff but he couldn't very well buy her 'shopping' or do anything like that. He had considered clothes, but had given up after the previous day's futility of trying to decide what she would like.

It was impossible.

And to top if off... this was probably the one time he would have a legitimate reason to give her something. So if he blew it... well that was the end. No other chances. So he had to make sure this one was good. Now if he could only find something.

"Hey Ray!"

He swerved around and away from the jewelry store, turning to see Todd and Pietro waving at him.

Oh well, he'd try again tomorrow.

* * *

"Pietro I'm telling you yo, this is cheating!"

"It's not cheating! I'm not trading with you or anything; I just don't know what to buy him!" Pietro argued.

"But you're not supposed to tell me who you have!"

"Well I don't know who you have, so it's all fine! Just help me with this will you! You know him better than I do. We're already here anyway."

"Fine," Todd relented, crossing his arms. "But I'm only doing this because you pulled out the 'I gave you the last bag of cheetos yesterday' card, and I know you have to be desperate."

"I am not desperate!" Pietro retorted. "I just have perfectionist issues."

"Oh hey, there's something you can think about. Roberto's a perfectionist too. Hm, come to think of it, you and him are kind of similar in a way."

"Two perfectionists. Great that makes it so much easier to buy something for him," Pietro rolled his eyes.

"Well don't complain, I'm helping you yo- hey there's Ray. I guess he came to buy his gift too. Hey Ray!"

* * *

"Night boss! I'll see you Monday," she tossed the last of the papers into the file and the file into the cabinet, grabbing her jacket off the coat rack as she did.

"Smith, wait a minute."

She paused, turning around with a questioning gaze. "Yeah boss?"

"Smith... you said you didn't have any plans. Would you join my wife and I for dinner tomorrow?"

She froze.

"Or next week if you prefer. Either would be fine."

She was frozen.

"So how about it Smith?"

"I... my brothers and I-"

"Oh no," he smiled, and somehow she felt reassured... comforted. "This time I'm inviting just you. I'll meet your brothers next time. You can't use them as an excuse now."

"...I have to go shopping tomorrow." She was retreating, but he only smiled still.

"Next week it is, then. Don't forget now. I'll see you on Monday, Smith."

She found herself outside the door. And the strangest thing of all... she was smiling.

* * *

Three days till Christmas, and he still hadn't gotten anything for her. Damn it. And he knew for a fact that most everyone else must have bought something already. On Sunday he had seen Rogue and Lance in the men's section of a store and had managed to slip out of the women's section before he could be found. Fred he had met in a women's clothing store, having lunch together after trading sheepish greetings and then separating to continue their individual present hunts. Scott had been with Todd and Pietro, scouting around together, all in a sports store. Roberto and Tabby he found in, strangely enough, an educational science store.

Three days left.

And still he did not know what to get her.

* * *

"…hey boss."

"Yes Smith?"

"…you're not really serious, are you?"

"About what, Smith?"

She wanted to glare and tell him he knew what. But somehow she couldn't. Instead she found herself wondering why she had already told the mansion household that she'd be working late today and having dinner at work.

"...I'm not going to your house."

"Well not yet you're not. That's not until six, it's only four right now. We have two hours."

"Boss..."

"Smith, I hope you like Italian. My wife and I can cook, but the only thing we can really do well is Italian."

"...boss..."

"Mind, I mostly just make the garlic bread since she's better at it than I am."

"BOSS!"

He looked at her, startled.

She didn't know why she shouted. She grabbed her jacket and took the door. "I'm going home early today, boss."  
She didn't hear his sigh when the door closed after her.

* * *

"All right yo, present time, round two!"

"Don't we open them tomorrow morning?" Fred asked, puzzled.

"Well yeah, but let's see the loot! Come on people, break out the shinies!"

"All right, who fed the frog boy sugar?" Pietro demanded, crossing his arms.

"Um, guilty as charged," Scott shrugged in defense. "We were having a snack."

"Ah knew Fred didn't eat tha whole bag of mini chocolates last night! It was weird when there wasn't any when Ah looked for it aftah dinner."

"Yeah, anyhow, Todd, I'm going to say no," Lance voiced. "I'm betting you just want to sneak peeks at what the gifts are."

"Not true!" Todd defended. "Well, only a little true," he edited after a skeptical look from all around.

"Oh come on, it's just a night. Wait till the morning," Roberto stated.

"Fine, but I'm waking you all up at five in the morning," Todd crossed his arms as the other teens started for their rooms, ready to turn in for the night.

"Do that and we're asking Logan to give you a morning Danger Room session," Ray rebuked, expertly mixing seriousness with joking mannerisms as he walked down the hall.

"No fair!"

* * *

Hank McCoy was a calm man. Well, when not in an enraged Beast fit he was. And he normally wasn't in such moods, so it could safely be said that Hank McCoy was a calm man.

He did however, get startled when Todd hopped into the kitchen at six in the morning.

"Good morning!"

"Good morning Todd. I think we ought to keep the volume down a little though, it's still early in the morning."

"Logan's not awake, is he?" Todd asked, sitting up on the chair next to the man as he grabbed an apple from the bowl on the table.  
"I'm not sure," Hank replied. "You're not up early to find Logan, are you?"  
Massive shaking of the head. "No, I don't want an extra Danger Room session! I... I'm just excited that's all. I ain't had this kind of a holiday since... well, in a long time. I'm just excited."

"...Hot chocolate, Todd?"

"Yo Mr. McCoy, you're reading my mind!"

* * *

This wasn't accomplishing anything.

She was just letting them blow up, without trying to control them or direct them. In fact all she was doing was throwing them.

They exploded madly around her, causing the snow to erupt to dangerous heights.

Abruptly she stopped, instinct telling her to leave. She grabbed her jacket as the half-melted snow fell down around her, shaking out the jacket once to rid it of any that might have gotten on it. Her instinct was proven right as she walked up the path toward the mansion, hands covered by Lance's black gloves once more... and ran into Logan.

"Hiya Badger!" Extra cheerful. She hoped she wasn't overdoing it. Not that he'd be able to tell. She highly doubted that.

"Boom Boom... what're you doing out here at this time?" ...Why was it that his tone seemed to indicate that he had almost been expecting her? She didn't like it.

"I was out for a morning walk. But I never took you to be a morning person Badger! Anyhow, see you later, Froggy's probably up already and hyper."

"Boom Boom-"

"Later Badger!"

She didn't give him a chance. She knew. And she wouldn't.

* * *

After a leisurely large breakfast with the three adults in the mansion, the teens gathered in the rec room as previously agreed upon.

"Here you go Todd," Roberto handed the gift to him, allowing the most excited teen the first present opening.

"What is it yo?" He shook the box once before shrugging, and proceeding to open up the wrappings, only to find himself with the unwrapped box in his hands... of course, that didn't mean he still didn't know what it was. The box had illustrations and photos on it, after all. "Chocolate covered insects! That's awesome man! Thanks Roberto!"

"You're welcome... I have to admit I didn't know if you'd like them or not, but Tabby said you would."

"Tabby knew? That's cheating, yo!"

"No I just guessed when I saw him in the science store, Toddy. It's not cheating if my detective skills happen to figure things out without any hints."

"Oh like it was that hard to figure out when you saw me with boxes of chocolate-covered insects in my hand," Roberto mused with just the minimum roll of the eyes, more teasing than not.

"Aaaanyway," Pietro cut in, picking out the box he had bought. "Since we're on you, we might as well. That's yours from the genius that is Pietro."

"Who had to ask my help in choosing the present," Todd coughed.

"Shut up Toad!" the white-haired teen murmured before pressing the box into Roberto's hand. "Ignore him, Roberto."

"Thanks Pietro," the solar-powered teen took the present, unwrapping it to reveal a soccer ball. "Hey, we should play later."

"In the snow?" Pietro's expression was remark enough and Roberto shrugged with a grin.

"Well, later."

"Ah guess Ah'll go next then. Here yah go, Pietro."

"For moi? Ah you're too much, Roguey."

"Ah'll take it back if yah go dramatic."

"Oh fine," at the threat he opened up the box, pulling out a sweater in the same second. "Roguey! Cashmere for moi? You know what I like!"

"Yah can stop over-reacting already. Ah had Lance's help."

"Geez everyone cheated, yo!"

"Oh I'm not taking credit for this. You were the one that chose this. I said to get the brown sweater thing."

"Light blue looks bettah on him," Rogue argued, before Fred handed her a box of her own.

"Um, I hope you like it. I just looked for it on my own."

"Thanks Fred," she smiled, opening the gift to find a pair of long black gloves. "Ah like it."

"Okay, then I guess it's my turn," Scott spoke, bringing out a slightly larger box.

As Fred took out the hat and scarf, Scott rubbed the back of his neck with a chuckle of slight sheepishness. "It's not much, but I thought since it was winter, it was appropriate."

"Hey thanks man."

"Okay who has Scott?" Roberto said, looking at the only four candidates left: Todd, Lance, Tabby, and Ray.

"That's me," Lance voiced, "And Rogue helped me, because I'll admit I had no idea what to get you, Summers. You're too preppy for your own good."

"I'll take that as a compliment, Alvers," Scott replied as he pulled out a white button-up shirt and a tie... a black tie with a white skull on the front.

"Like I said, too preppy for your own good," Lance remarked with a grin.

"Oh you're a riot," Scott grinned back.

"All right, my turn," Tabby handed the Brotherhood brunette a basket... inside which was shredded paper and marbles, with, in the middle, a rock. "It's a pet rock, Rocky. Take good care of him, his name is-"

"...Earthquake," Lance read off the boxtop. "Oh very funny Tabby. I should have known your gift would top mine in humour."

"Of course," Tabby tipped an invisible hat to the other with a grin, before turning to Ray and Todd. "All right, either Froggy has me and Lightning has himself, or Lightning has me and Froggy has Lightning."

"Don't call me that," Ray complained as he handed her the small box.

"Oh here you go, yo. I think I got something normal for once," Todd stated, handing Ray a larger box which Ray revealed to contain a black hooded pullover inside, with four orange sideways 'slashes' on the back, reminiscent of claw marks.

"Hey thanks," Ray spoke, getting up from the couch. "All right well that's that, let's watch a movie or something. How about a horror film?"

"On Christmas morning? Yah have weird taste Ray."

"It's late morning, but I'd prefer something else myself," Roberto spoke.

"I'll go make some popcorn," Fred volunteered.

"I'll help you get more snacks Fred," Scott stood up after him.

"And I'll get the soda, I guess," Lance walked out next to the two.

"Oh let's make melted marshmallows, yo!"

* * *

"You idiot."

He turned around, pulling his hands out of his pockets hastily as he dodged and defended himself from the snowball.

"Hey!"

"What're you doing, giving me this?! What're you thinking, Crisp!"

Another snowball. Directly on the head.

"Ow! Tabby, stop it!"

She stalked up, thrusting a fist at him, stopping barely short of his face. From the clenched hand dangled a faintly shimmering golden thread of a necklace, a small blue stone hanging off the middle. The glare in her presently ice blue eyes was unmistakable.

"Take. It. Back."


	16. Chapter 16 Promises & Secrets

**Chapter 16. Promises & Secrets.**

"Take. It. Back."

Damn it all. Could he not do right by her for once?

Of course, he had expected this to some degree, but it was such a strong rejection that he couldn't help but be thrown off.

"TAKE IT!"

An unsteady hand he raised halfway, reaching for the locket, before he withdrew, stepping back. "I gave it to you. I'm not taking it back."

"You shouldn't have given it to me in the first place!" she snapped, taking his hand and shoving the necklace into it.

"Tabby-"

"I'm not going to take it." The answer was final. He knew he couldn't convince her to do otherwise. Still he tried.

"Tabby, I gave that to you because I wanted you to have it! Obviously! Can't you just take it and leave me be for once?"

"For once, be sensible, Crisp!"

He was not startled enough that he lost the chance to fire back. "Sensible?! I'm not taking this from you! You've got the least common sense of anyone I've ever met! And that's including Iceman! Don't tell meto be 'sensible'!"

And then he blinked.

And she slapped him.

It was enough to freeze him to the spot, staring at her, his reddening cheek open to the cold winter air as his stunned body failed to shield it.

She glared at him with pure rage.

"Just because I don't have anything doesn't mean I want to take **yours**."

* * *

It was nearly New Year's Day, with a mere three days left till the Eve.

It had already been three weeks since the first time. Time flew when one betrayed the trust of those closest and dearest to him.

He managed to convince himself that it was for the better. He was doing this to change things. He was going to fix it, make things right. He was doing this for the better.

The dead tone echoed through the earpiece and yet he did not cut the connection. Instead the dull echo rang through his body, seemingly increasing in force with each consecutive tone.

"Hey Pietro-"

He flipped it closed and shoved it in his pocket, just as the Brazilian poked his head in, opening the door. "Yeah?"

Roberto grinned, holding up the soccer ball in one hand, opening the door further. "We're going to have a game outside. Want to join us?"

"You're playing. In the snow."

"Yeah. Everyone's already outside, come on."

"…well, at least the snow will mean you all have a snowball's chance in hell against my obviously superior speed." He flashed a grin, grabbing his jacket off the hook on the wall as he headed out after the other teen.

"Oh we're going to knock you down a peg or two, you'll see, I personally guarantee it. This is my game," Roberto grinned confidently, matching his smirk.

"We'll see about that."

Maybe he could call again after the game. And maybe that time, it would go better. Maybe then he could try to get through, at least a little.

He found himself to be so delusional sometimes.

* * *

"Just because I don't have anything doesn't mean I want to take **yours**."

The words were heavy as lead, yet as instantly permeating as the lightest and quickest of mist. The air was thick with the weight of her blue gaze and it wasn't until he started to fear she would turn from anger to hatred that she spoke once more, dispelling such concerns with a calmer yet even heavier tone of voice.

"I do not need your pity, and I will not have it."

Finally her glare subsided faintly as she turned around to leave, and he grabbed her with only the force of his words.

"I like you."

* * *

"Hey Fred?"

"Yeah Lance?"

"Where'd Tabby and Ray go?"

"I dunno. I couldn't find them. Maybe they're with Logan and the Professor, Logan was looking for Tabby earlier. He said something about a special danger room session for Tabby for missing the usual ones because of work."

"Ray probably got grouped in by bad luck or somethin', if they are with Logan. Or they could be watchin' TV inside lahke sensible people instead of watchin' those loons play soccer in tha snow lahke we'ah doin'."

"And how exactly did this turn into such a competitive two on two game, if you don't mind me asking?"  
They shrugged collectively at the question from the former high school teacher, but the shrug was more of a 'the usual' statement than a 'who knows' response.

"Pietro's always competitive," Rogue replied.

"And Roberto's always up for a challenge," Fred mused.

"So really it's no surprise this happened," Lance finished.

"I suppose. And why is it you're not taking part in this game?" Hank asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Speed isn't my thing."

"Ah don't play."

"And there's no way I'm getting in the middle of another one of Pietro's hyper-competitive games. I've learned my lesson," Lance stated as they shifted their attention back to watching the game of Maximoff and Summers versus Da Costa and Tolansky.

"I suppose with Pietro and Roberto involved, the powers just naturally fit in with the game," Hank mused as Scott's blast drove a thick arc in the snow, causing the ball to swerve around and away from Todd as the teen leaped for it. Said leaping teen retaliated with a snowball before the motion was returned, though by Pietro as he split past, raising snow to his sides as he kicked the ball to Scott. It was intercepted by Roberto who proceeded to make a goal as Todd distracted Pietro from recovering the ball with a snowball of revenge.

* * *

I. Like. You.

What had just happened here?

One minute she was smacking Ray one for doing something stupid, and the next he was dealing her a blow. Only verbally, yet he managed the stronger shock.

"What?"

Fortunately he withdrew some, though not enough for her liking. "Well, I think so. I've never actually had this issue before, so I can't be sure. But I'm mostly sure."

"Oh you have got to be kidding me." She hadn't meant to sound so harsh and caustic, but it came out without her realizing.

It seemed to set off Ray, who took her hand and left the locket in it. "Look, I just want you to have it. It's not like I'm ever going to wear it myself."

She turned around fully to face him once more, albeit with less anger and more confusion this time. Not that she let it show. Much.

"Ray, I'm not taking your mother's necklace!"

"You can't let go of your parents!"

Another blow, and this time she could not recover so easily. Instead her intense blue gaze remained on him without words for back up, merely lingering.

"...I've given up on that a long time ago. I think about them sometimes, and I'm not saying I don't wonder about how it would have been if things had been or were different every now and then. I do. But ultimately I've given up on all of that a long time ago. I'm made my peace with it. You're still clinging to your dreams of having your parents."

She couldn't understand how he knew so well. No one knew her this well. No one knew her for real. Not even the boys knew about her history, her mental processes, her familial fantasies, her futile hopes. Yet here he was, summarizing the story of her life.

"…and what if I am?"

It was quiet at first.

She imploded, then exploded.

"Why shouldn't I cling to my fantasies if it lets me stay even a little less pessimistic and hopeless than I already am! I can damn well be delusional if I want!"

These shouts were not strong or forceful, cracking with each word, breaking up at last to a bare whisper in the end. "Who says you have any say in my delusional denials anyway."

"…Tabby. I don't know about your parents. I don't know about your past. And I don't know why you want this so badly. Actually…" he trailed off, almost too hesitant to continue. "…I don't even understand. All I know is, you want parents, and I can't help you with that. I gave you the necklace because I don't need it, and you do. You can give it back to me if you want, when you let go of this and you don't need anything to cling to anymore."

It was a while before she replied, but when she finally moved, it was to put the necklace in her pocket. "…Ray, why are you trying to… why are you helping me."

Finally something he could answer easily and confidently without the slightest trace of doubt.

"Because you helped me."

* * *

"Logan, I understand your concern, but I don't think it would be best to push Tabitha right now. She's proven to be rather resistant and I don't want to risk pushing her further away."

"Charles, sometimes you gotta take the risks. That girl is hiding something and she's not going to tell us if we don't try to get the answer from her."

"She's already proven that she won't react favourably under pressure from us. We'll have to wait until she wants to let us help."

"We're never going to get anywhere if we just keep waiting. Avalanche and the other kids are only now getting settled in and they actually reacted to us at least. And with going to work all the time Boom Boom's completely-"

"Tabitha is evasive as of late, I know, Logan. But I do believe that the job is beneficial to her. She seems to be getting attached to it. I am hoping that this will get her to be open to our help as well, with time. Slowly as it may be, but we must give her time."

"Slow is right. Maybe if we tried more of what Hank did with the two and Ororo with Quicksilver-"

"Everyone reacts to different things, and reacts to the same thing differently Logan. I don't think our approaches will work with Tabitha at the present. I know you are worried, but give it time, my friend."

"…I just can't believe I saw Boom Boom out around so early in the morning, that's all."

"She has been taking walks around the morning for a while now, but she seems to return in a calmer state so I haven't pressed the issue to find out anything about it."

"Well…maybe you should, Charles. I could swear I smelled blood on her this morning. It was faint, but I'm pretty sure about it. My senses never lie to me."

"Blood?"

"Don't worry, it wasn't strong. Could have been from a small cut or something. Wouldn't know for sure, the kid avoids me too well so I barely see her around these days."

"…I will try to talk to her, Logan."

* * *

"Because you helped me."

The four words had been all he offered for an explanation. Then he had gone off and for the rest of the day, he acted as they always did after their encounters. Acted as if nothing had happened. No consequences… at least, that was the rule.

It was already twelve o'clock and she had long since retired to her room with claims of needing sleep. Sitting at her desk with the necklace lying in front of her, she could not stop thinking about what had taken place in the afternoon.

First he gives her the only thing he has left of his parents. Then he tells her he likes her. Then he proceeds to analyze her down to the darkest of denials. And then he finishes by claiming that she helped him. Damn it if that boy wasn't driving her up the wall.

...Still... with her last photograph gone, the necklace was in a strange way giving her comfort. Damn Ray for being right. Know-it-all jerk…

She opened her desk drawer, taking out the handkerchief she never used and unfolding it to slip the locket inside the cloth, before placing it back inside the drawer.

She'd think more about it later... she needed some sleep.

Tomorrow she'd go back to work. Go back to work... after an undeclared absence of three days. Well she needed to deal with it sometime, and three days was enough time to get her senses back so that she wouldn't go and do something stupid again.

* * *

"Some potatoes, Tabitha?"

Oh she had done something stupid again.

"Uh, yeah, sure, thanks."

Oh damn it all.

How the hell had this happened?

How could she do something so stupid?

She took the plate of mashed potatoes and gravy with an awkward grin.

She was having dinner.

Here she was, having dinner.

Dinner.

Damn it.

She swore she'd never come to his home. She swore she'd never accept any invitations. She swore!

"Smith, if you're not going to eat, we can't get to dessert."

Damn him.

"I'm eating."

Damn him and his fantastic mashed potatoes and gravy and roast and carrots and bread and… damn him.

"Joseph has told me so much about you. I'm glad you decided to come, I've wanted to meet you."

Okay, so she couldn't blame her. She just happened to be with the man she was trying to be mad at presently. Though, it felt a little awkward, hearing someone else use his actual name to talk about him. She purposefully never called him anything but 'boss'. It gave her the extra distance she needed.

"You know, Smith, you're not nearly as conversational as I've described to Sandra."

He seemed to know it, but did the same, keeping the distance for her.

"Joseph, don't tease her. So, Tabitha, Joseph tells me you're in high school."

Well she couldn't keep not saying anything, as much as it was difficult to try to not enjoy the food and stay mad at her boss. "Uh, yeah. In Bayville High. I heard you were a high school teacher."

"Yes, I teach senior English."

She scooped a mouthful of mashed potatoes to excuse herself from making too much conversation. Strangely, she found herself drawn to this whole situation. It was just... well, she always felt fairly comfortable yet distanced with her boss, but now that they were in a different setting... it was different, sitting at a dinner table.

And she... she was nice. Sandra Winston, as she had introduced, though she had already heard about her. Of course, she was at a loss as to how to address her—her boss, she could just call 'boss', and things were nice and simple. But what did one call her boss's wife while trying not to get too close with first names?

"I'm sorry your brothers couldn't come with you today. I would have liked to meet them as well. I've heard a little about Lance from Joseph."

"Lance was always a quiet kid though, didn't talk to me much."

"Bet he got more work done than I do though." She didn't know why she said that. She was getting too familiar, too close.

He smiled at her.

"Oh you get more than enough done. You and your brothers don't slack off much, do you Smith?"

She met his deep brown gaze for a moment before evading it, only to have her gaze find Sandra's green. It took her a moment before she realized, drawn into the gaze, and she averted her attention once more, cutting a piece of roast.

"You only say that because you've never seen us outside of work, Boss. We're hell in school."

"Now, can you believe that Sandra? Smith here always tells me that they're troublemakers, but it just doesn't strike me as likely."

"I think she's a lovely young lady."

"Oh trust me, you wouldn't think so if you taught at my school."

"You're always so quick to assure me of that, Smith."

"That's because it's the truth, Boss. Ask anyone from my school and you'll hear the same thing. I've got a track record longer than the store lines the week before the holidays."

"Well I think you're a wonderful young lady and you should come to dinner more often. Bring your brothers next time."

...Oh hell. What did she have to say to make them believe that she was the troublemaking rule-breaking slacker she was? …why wouldn't they believe her anyway? It wasn't as if the rest of the world had a problem believing it. Actually, the rest of the world didn't even need to be assured of such, the rest of the world usually told her all of this without hesitation.

"...sure."

"That's a promise, Smith."

She hesitated at his smile, but a second and she flashed her own grin.  
"Have to warn you, we eat a lot."

* * *


	17. Chapter 17 Quest for understanding

**Chapter 17. Quest for understanding.**

"Happy New Year!"

"Whoo!"

"Da Costa! My New Year's resolution is to beat you at soccer!"

"Sorry to say I don't see that happening, Pietro."

"All right all of you have had too much sugar. You've stayed up past midnight and the new year celebration is done, now go to bed."

"But Logan!"

"No buts, Stripes."  
"Logan, let them have their fun. New Year's Day comes but once a year."

"Once a year is plenty with hyper sugar-filled teenagers, Hank," Logan replied with a grunt, but he stepped back regardless. "Winter holidays have too many excuses for them to slack off. I'm going to give them extra danger room sessions until school starts again."

* * *

January third. The morning of her first day of work in the new year. Seven o'clock. And she was walking in from her daily 'walk'.

Had anyone told her last year that by this time, she'd be living with the X-Men again, with the Brotherhood no less, waking up at six in the morning to sneak out to the beach to practice her newly-haywire-but-getting-stronger powers and then sneaking back in around seven to pretend to have just awoken, attending school regularly if not rigorously, going to work six days a week and actually liking it, and even taking dinner invitations from her boss... well, suffice to say, she would have politely told them to check themselves into a mental hospital and wished them a quick recovery.

But here she was, and it was all true.

It had already been fourteen weeks since they had arrived at the mansion—four months and a half. More than a quarter of a year. She had since seen Todd and Fred befriend the New Recruits, Pietro and Evan reconcile, and even seen Lance and Scott getting along and becoming buddies. Now the Brotherhood boys were hanging out with the New Recruits and main X-Men alike, even unfazed by Logan's double Danger Room sessions, though that didn't mean they didn't complain about said sessions.

It had already been thirteen weeks since she had started working at Lance's former job. Lance's former job… she forgot it used to be his. That it had never really been her job, and that she would never have taken it had Lance not…  
Well, anyway, the last several months had been something she had never expected.

She had always made a point of boasting her unpredictability, but this was ridiculous.

Tabitha shrugged off the thoughts as she neared Pietro's door, reaching for the knob but pausing at hearing the voice through the wooden door.

"No, I'm not trying to be disrespectful, it's just, couldn't you-"

Silence. Thirteen seconds and a quiet voice.

"...yes father, I- no, sir. Yes sir, Magneto."

Had she not put an instinctive hand over her hand, she would have gasped out loud. But there was no mistaking it. She heard the phone flip closed and moved away from the door, quickly stepping across the hall to her own room and slipping in before he could come out into the hall.

* * *

He flipped the mobile phone closed, hand wrapped around the small device tightly, fighting the urge to throw it violently against the wall.

He could not understand.

He was so powerful. He was arguably the most powerful mutant in the world, or at least that's what Pietro gathered from all the comparisons and references regarding him. He was so powerful. Yet he would not risk rescuing his own daughter.

He could not understand.

And he could not explain nor persuade. He was powerless against him.

He stuffed the cell phone into his pocket and headed out of the room for breakfast.

* * *

Explosions.

They were so loud, noisy, disruptive. Yet she was so used to them now, that they were almost calming. She could control them well now, almost as well as she had before her powers had started evolving further. Her bombs were stronger, created more quickly, and she was even starting to get the hang of reabsorbing them should that be necessary or desired. Six weeks of training alone every morning, and it was paying off. She could control them with almost complete exactness. She could make fake duds, perfectly timed delays, as well as the standard bombs that now exploded exactly when she wanted them to. Perfect precision.

The only problem was, lately she wasn't bothering to control them, and using them as an outlet. And there just wasn't much to blow up on the beach. She was tired of watching the sand fly up with a flick of her wrist and a carelessly tossed bomb. She needed actual targets. Something to focus on so that she could get her mind off life-and-death secrets, parental issues, trust issues, and secrets of best friends contacting his estranged and untrustworthy so-called-father who would only use him for his powers and-

Sigh.

She let out a deep breath before taking a seat, not caring that the after effects of her wild bombs had some sand sprinkling down over her back as she did.

She needed to let this out one way or another. And she knew of only one possible way to really get her focused enough to forget everything else, while actually pushing her control over her powers further. Only thing was, she didn't know if she wanted to risk it... though at this point, it seemed anything would be worth it to be able to focus on something other than all the secrets and issues.

Well, first she would go to work. She could still delay the inevitable.

* * *

What could she do?

Should she confront him? She did not know. Normally, Lance would be dealing with something like this. But she could not tell him about it. She couldn't tell anyone. Things were too good right now. The Brotherhood had settled in. Things were finally good for them, and she would not risk their happiness.

Yet she could not simply leave it be. That would risk everything.

Why couldn't Pietro have let things be... no, she didn't blame him for it, it was just... he may be his father, but he was Magneto. Pietro couldn't just make social phone calls and... he... he was still his father. And she knew Pietro had never let go of the hope of seeing a fatherly side in him.

...And she knew she could not blame him. She had given up on that a long time ago, but she too clung to her own dreams. She would not admit it out loud yet, but she knew it was true. She had accepted it only recently and had yet to do so outwardly, but she knew it was true.

...Still, she had to deal with the mutant side of the issue. She had to at least talk to him about it.

She opened the door and stepped in.

"Pietro?"

He glanced back from his spot on the bed, where he sat reading a hardback novel of a title she did not recognize, a mystery novel of some sort.

"Yeah, what's up?"

His voice did not cue her in fast enough, but when she finally looked up to his face, she saw the still-slightly-reddened eyes and rushed over.

"Pietro! What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" He must have not meant for her to find out. He quickly swiped away at his eyes, as if to remove any traces of moisture away, but it only made it more evident that he had been crying.

"Pietro…"

"It's nothing. I'm fine."

She sat down on the side of the bed, and as she placed a hand on the blankets her fingertips brushed over the plastic casing of the cell phone. She hesitated for a second but only shifted her posture, moving her hand instead to Pietro's.

"Pietro, come on, tell me."

He shook his head, a singular movement, brief and slow. "...I can't. You won't like it."

"...you can tell me anything."

"...Telling you about it won't change anything for me," the words were confirming more so than informing.

She knew what he would say.

She could do nothing else.

"...Talk to me, Pietro. You know I'm on your side no matter what."

"...I can't tell you all of it."

He was always painfully honest with her.

She nodded. "...That's okay."

"...I... I just... I've just been thinking about things..."

She moved closer, moving to place her arm around his shoulder.

"...I just... I don't understand." He was so deathly quiet it scared her, even though she had known it was coming.

"...Don't understand what, Pietro?"

"...I don't...I don't understand why he hates me so much."

* * *

He knew he shouldn't be doing this. He couldn't break down, not now, not when he was so impossibly close to losing it. He could not bear to tell them the truth, to have them know how much he had let them down. How much he had betrayed their trust. He couldn't... yet he was already talking to her.

...She would understand.

"I don't know what he wants from me. I tried so hard... I tried so hard to be the son he wanted... but he doesn't want a son. He wants a weapon. And if I fail him too, he'll-"

He had almost slipped.

"I-I just miss her. It must be the holidays... he... I miss him too, at least what I wish he would be... I'm a horrible idiot, aren't I, Tabby."

She did not answer for a long time. Minutes and she finally spoke.

"...It's okay to hope, Pietro."

* * *


	18. Chapter 18 Independence & Dependence

**Chapter 18. Resolute Independence & Overdue Dependence**

"Hey boss."

"Yes, Smith?"

She left the question in the air for a long while, flipping instead through the calculations a third time before placing her pen down.

"...boss, I've got a weird story. Want to hear it?"

"Sure, Smith."

"...it's really weird. You'll probably not like it."

"Always so dramatic. Try me, Smith."

She did not return his smile, instead looking away with the pretense of glancing at the documents again, though the words were unfocused in her troubled gaze.

"…boss, if you had a friend who was getting himself into a impossible situation and most likely going to get hurt in the process, what would you do."

He paused in his work, turning his full attention on her. "...that's not a story, Smith."

"Humour me, boss."

"...Well, I'd probably try to talk to him about it."

"...and if he was keeping it a secret?"

He flipped the pen down and she heard the creak of his chair turning toward her.

"Well, I don't know how I'd know about it to help if he was keeping it a secret, Smith. But if I somehow knew, and he didn't know that I did, I suppose I would try talking to one of our other friends about it, to figure out a way to help."

"...and if your friends would crash at finding out? If the one person you might be able to tell might just die from all the stress or do something reckless and get himself killed in the process? …and if your friend's clinging onto this with new hope because it's the one thing he wants the most and life is finally being good to him so that he can actually even think about hoping about this like he is? And-" she stopped, finally realising that she had started to ramble, though fortunately her voice had dropped in volume and her words had fallen to a low whispered murmur by the time she stopped.

He said nothing for a second, but when he spoke it was quieter than usual, and she noted the one thing she could never stand—concern, one step away from pity. Though...from him it was...well he didn't make it seem like it was one step away from pity.

"...Smith, honestly, I don't understand what you're saying... Is something wrong?"

She took a second of her own to collect herself completely before turning to face him with a grin. "Never mind, boss. It's a psychology riddle someone told me at school. It's not important."

* * *

"Not important, not listening!" he yelled while managing to steal the ball away, though this meant he wasn't bothering to look at her as he responded. "Can't you see this is more important?!"

"Ah don't care if your latest obsession is soccah, Ah have tha Danger Room session with yah so get back inside! Ah am goin' tah drag yah there if Ah have tah!"

"Maybe you should just go man," he suggested, pausing briefly as he glanced over at the impatiently waiting white-banged auburn brunette.

"Ah she can wait. The session's not for another ten minutes. That's like a million hours away."

"No, it's actually just ten minutes away. Come on, she's waiting. You're the only person in the world crazy enough to be playing in this snow anyway," of course, that said, he took the chance to steal the ball back, though they both didn't bother to take it very far down, instead more stationary as they watched the girl out of the corner of their eyes, just in case she decided to be more active about literally dragging Pietro over to the Danger Room.

"It's like a million hours to me. And you're playing with me," Pietro brushed off the comment effortlessly, as well as evading the annoyed glare of Rogue from the balcony whilst stealing the ball back.

"You challenged me," the Brazilian replied, as if it was unnecessary to even state such matters.

"Snow slows me down enough for you to keep up with me anyway," the white-haired teen commented with a smirk, purposefully teasing the other.

"Yeah you wish, Pietro. I'm still leading by two," taking the ball back, Roberto remarked with an equally arrogant smirk, though both knew they were just having fun.

"You must be counting wrong," Pietro stated, stealing the ball once more.

He liked this.

In the last two weeks they had played almost daily against each other, whether it be with more people (when the less-competitive teenagers of the house could be bothered to play soccer in the often present snow) or just against each other. It had given their obsessive personalities something to work off of, as well as giving him something to focus on other than the phone calls. It was remarkably good for that; he found himself genuinely immersed in the game and the complementary bonuses that followed. They found themselves trading smirks and arrogant remarks regularly, albeit without a single trace of disdain toward the other. This was unusual for him. Even when he was joking he tended to have a certain air of conceit about him, but with the Brazilian it disappeared for some reason. He had a level of distinct respect for the Brazilian, certainly (after all who else could keep up with him for hours as he did), but Pietro knew he had also lost some of his natural need to be antagonistic as a method of defense against all others. Yes, he had gotten...less guarded during his stay at the mansion. Despite recent occurrences...

"Hey, you're losing focus. We might as well stop; Rogue's coming down to get you," Roberto nodded toward the empty balcony, kicking the ball up to catch it. "Besides, Logan might give you an extra session if you're late."

He found it a bit annoying that the Brazilian could tell when he was losing focus so easily. Then again… on the other hand, it was kind of nice. For some reason. Kind of. He wasn't sure why.

"Yeah, like I'd be late. But yeah, let's head in. I'll finish kicking your butt tomorrow."

"I'll take your challenge anytime, but don't get your hopes up, Pietro," he gave a grin, and Pietro smirked back.

"Oh as if I haven't proven things enough times already."

* * *

He knew he hadn't just been imagining things. His instincts were never wrong.

Four missing tapes. The fifth erased completely and rewound to record as if nothing had been recorded on it from the beginning. Had he not wanted to check the last session to show the speedster teen how his focus was off lately, he wouldn't have even noticed the erased tape.

The Danger Room recordings had been tampered with.

And he could find only one scent that had been there recently.

* * *

Blowing up things.

Now that was something to keep her mind occupied. Man, it was exciting to actually aim her bombs at something instead of just letting them fall to the sand as she had been doing lately. Six weeks without any danger room sessions. She had managed it through sheer force of will and elaborately planned escapes on the weekend with excuses of work and school homework, dodging questions from all with nonchalant changes in conversation and evading Logan all together for the last month and a half.

What she did not expect was for it to all go down the drain in one wrong moment as the door opened at the exact second she reached for the rewind button.

She didn't have to turn around to know who it was. The heavy footsteps had been the sound she had trained her ears so keenly to be aware of for quick leaves and evasions.

She quickly ejected the tape, taking it out and slipping it behind her back. She doubted he would not notice, but she would not go down so easily. That, at least, she would make sure of.

"Boom Boom. I thought you'd be here."

"Hiya Badger." Her grin was less forced than might be expected in the situation, but she was used to feigning nonchalance. She practically had a doctorate in the art.

"Hi. I'll have that tape now."

"What tape?"

"The one you have behind your back, Boom Boom."

Desperate situations called for desperate measures. She slipped a bomb at one-tenth the usual potency and tossed the tape aside, letting it blow exactly three seconds of leaving her fingers.

It exploded without leaving a single trace nor a single singe on any nearby equipment, only leaving the ashes to fly in the air.

She flashed a grin, her trademark grin, but her blue gaze was confident and challenging, resistant and rebellious. "Whoops. Sorry Badger, my bad. I'll buy another tape to make up for it. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go do some lovely history homework."

He closed the door behind him and stepped directly in her path even as she tried to tilt out of the way.

"I think you need to see something before you go anywhere."

He walked over and took her by the wrist, pulling her lightly to one of the imbedded screens before reaching over to one of the connected machines and pressing a button marked 'play'.

She knew she had been outdone even before she saw the screen automatically rewind and play her secret private session. He had set up the second machine to record the Danger Room along with the standard tape that ran automatically with anyone entering the Danger Room.

She did not watch it, refusing to let him have the win. She stopped the tape, and turned to him, defiant. She would not go down without a fight. "I'm busy. I'll see you later, Badger."

He did not let her go.

"No. I think we need to talk now."

"Let go of me."

"We have to talk, kid. Now you can talk to Charles if you want, or Ororo and Hank, but you're talking to one of us and you're going to do it now."

She narrowed her eyes, and her free hand glowed with responsive energy. Her voice was low as she glared at him.

"I'll use it on you if I have to. Let go of me, Wolverine."

She saw the surprise in his eyes. He hadn't been expecting it. The startled light in his eyes stunned her somehow, and the bomb extinguished, reabsorbed. She unclenched her fists and pulled free. "...sorry. I've got to go."

The defensive look in her eyes was gone now, but he recognised it as the look akin to that of a cornered leopard, fierce and defiant.

This was going to be harder than even he had thought.

He took her by the arm once more, unwilling to back down now. If he lost her now, she would manage to completely avoid him for another two months in the least, before he could even get in the same room with her again.

"Did you really think we wouldn't notice, kid?"

He spoke harsher than he had planned, but it did provoke her to remain and fire back, even though he had let go of her arm.

"You haven't for six weeks, why start now?" she snapped.

She didn't expect his response. She had been ready with another vicious retort and glare. She didn't expect his soft response.

"...Why didn't you ask us to help you?"

The calm tone, the gentleness she had never heard before in his voice threw her off for a whole minute. But when she recovered, she was done.

"Because."

She turned around, opening the door and stepping out.

"I don't need your help."

If it hadn't been for the next sentence that followed, Logan would have tacked up her behavior as remaining distrust and teenage rebellion. But the next sentence didn't let him. He obviously wasn't supposed to hear it, however, the door closing firmly behind her as she walked off, and he took care to pretend not to have heard it.

"...my powers aren't killing me. Lance's are."

* * *

"I'm telling you Charles, this isn't good. She thinks as long as we're looking out for Shakedown, we can't do the same for her."

"...She believes we don't have the time to help her, not when we're already helping Lance with his powers and their effects."

"Yeah... these kids are too damn stubborn."

"…what troubles me is that she doesn't seem to want to risk dividing our attention even though Lance has shown great improvement in the last few months by refraining from using his powers. She is much more concerned about it than even the other Brotherhood boys are. It makes me wonder if she knows more than we told her."

"You think she heard something serious from the kid himself when he was depressed or something?"

"Perhaps... we can't be sure without asking one of them directly."

"Oh I don't think Boom Boom's going to let me anywhere near her for a few months. And it might just make Rocky worried again, asking about this. Kid's finally acting like a normal teenager, might as well let him enjoy it. Think you can try talking some sense into Boom Boom, Charles?"

"She's been evading me quite expertly as well, unfortunately. She's quite determined in not giving us any chances to try to talk."

"So what're we going to do? We can't just leave her like this and pretend we don't know anything."

"No... I'll ask Ororo to try when she returns. She had success with Pietro when he was resistant, and she might be taken as less of a threat than us or even Hank, since Hank taught Tabitha at school in the past."

"Right... oh, and you should know—for a second Boom Boom was even threatening me. It was only a second, but the kid's got something going on, Charles. Something that made her feel that cornered and threatened when I tried to talk to her. This was definitely about more than just the Danger Room recording."

* * *

Midnight. Well, thirteen after midnight.

She had left the mansion at three past seven.

Successfully she had gotten herself just intoxicated enough to numb the sheer deafening idiocy of it all a little but just enough that she had been still quite aware of the fact that she didn't want to go back any time soon. Five hours and ten minutes later, and she was now sober enough to be somber.

She would have to thank Ray tomorrow for 'lending' her his car.

She found herself driving without direction. She had at first intended on going to the Brotherhood Boarding House to spend the night there, but somewhere along the way she had gotten distracted and found herself on another road.

And now she was pulling up at his driveway.

What was she doing?

She could have gone to the Boarding House. She could have gone to work, even. But no, she had driven to his house. His home.

She turned the headlights and engine off, but didn't bother to undo the seatbelt. She wouldn't go so far. She wouldn't. She would take a second, turn the engine back on, flip the headlights on and drive out, pretending she had driven into the wrong driveway or something. No, not pretending, she had driven into the wrong driveway anyway. She was supposed to be at the Boarding House.

The porch lamp lit on and the door opened, but though her hand rested on the keys she did not turn them, and the engine remained silent, asleep.

The car door was unlocked and he opened it with confused questions and expressions of concern and worry. Her hand slipped off the keys and she undid her seatbelt before turning to him.

She cried into his arms without a single word of explanation.

He carried her inside and laid her down on the couch with a blanket and did not ask. She cried, not telling him a word, and he did not question. She fell asleep as he pulled a second blanket over her shoulders and brushed the disarray of her blonde bangs away from her eyes.

* * *


	19. Chapter 19 Safety & Illusions of Safety

**Chapter 19. Safety & Illusions of Safety.**

He woke to three fairly loud consecutive knocks at his door, but did not open his eyes. That is, not until he heard the small explosion and his door slamming open. Instinctively he sat up, sending a bolt of electricity flying toward the door.

"Ray!"

She dodged and the bolt flew to the shutting door, singing the wood relatively severely.

He blinked once and then rubbed his eyes, before quickly pulling the sheets around his waist, as he was clad in only his boxers and a t-shirt.  
"Tabby! What the hell are you doing?! I'm sleeping here!"

"Well, you were," she shrugged and stepped closer, but he shook his head before she could take a seat on the bed next to him.  
"No! You can't just blast into my room at-" a quick glance to the clock on the wall, "-six fifty-five in the morning and just expect me to be fine with it!"

"Oh I don't expect you to be fine with it, Lightning. But seeing as how you're my fateful knight in shining armour for now, you're going to get over it and let me talk."

"Tabby! I'm not-"

"So, you and I were out last night."

His aggravation tipped down as his confusion rose. "What? What are you talking about?"

"You and I were out last night. That's my cover story. Work with me here, Lightning."

"You call me that again and I'm kicking you out of my room, Boom Boom, regardless of whatever it is you need me for."

"Oh fine," she relented at the face of his annoyance and flashed a grin.  
"So, you're going to stick with the story or what?"

He rolled his eyes, raising a hand to smooth his long amber bangs back out of his face. Her blue eyes held both a mischievous and teasing light, though there remained one last element in the mixture, and the last made him give in without further resistance—he knew she trusted him. A lot more now than ever before. He wasn't entirely certain that was for the better; his cynical side told him he'd probably fail her as almost all others before him had. Not that he wouldn't go down without a fight.

"And why am I doing this?"

He knew the answer he would get, but he asked anyway.  
She did not disappoint, smiling lightly, only half teasing.

"Because you like me, of course."

* * *

He frowned. He frowned with all the severity and force of a disgruntled yet relieved brother with paranoia issues.  
She let it be.

"The least you could have done was call and let us know. We were worried, you know." Lance nodded toward the couch, where Pietro, Todd, Fred, Scott, Rogue and Roberto presently sat politely not listening in on their conversation...or at least being polite enough to feign such a thing.

She shrugged, "I don't have a phone, Lancey. You know that."

She gave Ray a pointed glance and he gave her a brief look before speaking, taking a potato chip as he did so.

"Yeah I don't have one either. We just went out because we were bored; we hadn't been planning it or anything."

Taking a bite out of her sandwich Tabby nodded. "Yeah, gas on his car will tell you that. It's dangerously low because he wasn't thinking about going out and left it more than half empty."

"Yeah, the gas on-" he turned with a pointed glare this time to Tabby, realizing what she had just said, "**My **car?"

Fortunately Lance had gotten up to get a drink from the fridge, taking out a bottle of water. She gave Ray an apologetic grin that clearly was not remorseful nor showed any regret in the matter, yet managed to be acceptable nonetheless in the realm of apologies, as with all of her apologetic grins.

"Yeah, your car, remember?"

He glared but let it go. "Yeah." For now. "_My_ car..."

"Well just call from a payphone or something next time. We were all pretty worried," Lance stated, setting down the bottle as the three headed back toward the couch where their housemates and friends presently watching a movie.

"Sure Lancey. Sorry about making you worry. So, isn't today the day everyone's getting back?"

"Yeah, winter vacation's over this weekend, so they're all flying back today and tomorrow," Fred supplied from the couch, only half attentive to the movie on the screen, as with the rest of the population.

"Hey it'll be good, with everyone back Logan won't be giving us double Danger Room sessions anymore," Todd spoke.

"Yeah, but we'll still have regular sessions," Scott reminded lightly, receiving a good-natured dismissive wave from the rest of the gathered teens.

"I'm just happy Kitty'll be back. Only five and a half hours left until her flight arrives."

"Oh don't count down, you seem even more lovesick than usual!" Pietro rolled his eyes.

"I am not lovesick," Lance grumbled.

"He's been counting down the days too," Roberto commented.

Pietro didn't miss the chance to continue after Roberto, "Ah ha! See, you are lovesick."

"And it's not like you haven't been keeping in touch, Lance. You've been getting calls from her regularly since day one," Roberto added once more.

"Ha! See, my associate Da Costa has the facts. You're ridiculously lovesick. It's disgraceful and alarmingly so," Pietro stated, crossing his arms, though he could not help the slight smirk that gave away his lack of seriousness.

"I am not lovesick, all right? Drop it and let's just watch the movie."

"Why are we watching this movie anyway, yo?" Todd asked.

"Yeah, I thought we were going to go to the movies anyway tomorrow when the girls want to go shopping at the mall," Fred nodded.

"Ah wanted tah watch it, all right? And no one's makin' all y'all go, yah don't have tah if you don't want tah. Ah've half a mind tah try tah get out of it mahself, with Kitty and everyone comin' back all hyper," Rogue made a face at the thought of the reunion shopping spree and the marked rise in the chatter factor that everyone's return would bring. "In fact, why don't we all skip out. Ah don't need tah buy anything new yet," she murmured, though she knew she wasn't serious.

"Well Lance's definitely going; he's been looking forward to some Kitty time all week. And Roberto, man, don't tell me you're not going to be happy to see Rahne," Fred spoke matter-of-factly, but his grin gave away his teasing tone.

"Hey, let's not go there, I'm nowhere near what Lance and Kitty have going on," Roberto stated, taking a drink from his glass.

"And I know one person that's been looking forward to this mall trip more than anyone else," Lance proclaimed with a sly smirk of his own. "So what are you and Jean doing anyway, Scott?" he turned to the sunglasses-clad teen, effectively turning the general attention to the X-Men leader, who nearly sputtered out his soda.

"Whoa whoa! I'm not in love with Jean! I'm going to the mall because I need new socks, that's all. My reasons for going are completely, completely different from Lance's."

"But I thought all you boys were tagging along around to watch us girls try on different clothes," Tabby remarked with a smirk, feigning a shocked gasp and a dramatic wounded wave of the hand to the chest before leaning in to the crimson-shaded brunette. "But you know, Scotty, no one said you were in love with Jean."

"Yeah, but we all know Scott's worse than even Lance sometimes," Pietro stated dismissively.

"Am Ah the only one trying tah watch tha movie? All y'all are drownin' out tha sound," Rogue complained half-heartedly, already having long since stopped paying full attention to the cinematic display on the screen.

"I think you're the only one that even noticed it was on, Rogue," Fred mused from his seat next to her.

"When do we ever really watch a movie anyway?" Ray shrugged.

"Anyway, Scotty's been lovesick longer since he and Jean met earlier than Lance and Kitty," Tabby tossed Todd a bag of chips as the younger teen pointed them out.

Todd was quick to confirm as he caught the bag of chips, "Which is why I don't get why Jean is seeing that jerk Duncan to begin with. I mean, sure Scott's too Danger Room session-loving sometimes-"

"Gee, thanks Todd."

"I ain't finished yo, I'm defending you, you're way better than Duncan Matthews…ah man, yo, I just reminded myself of going back to school." Todd groaned, pushing the newly-opened bag of chips aside.

"Chill out Todd, you've got us," Roberto assured. "Besides, school isn't all bad."

"Says the A student. I swear you're so X-Geek sometimes, Da Costa," Pietro remarked.

"Yeah, like you don't get A's yourself, Pietro," Scott chuckled.

"A pluses," Pietro amended, "And I do work because of sheer boredom, so I don't count."

"Speaking of which, Quickie, Roguey, Roberto, have you guys finished the paper we were supposed to do over the break?" Tabby raised the question, a half-grin signifying that she had yet to do so herself.

"You still haven't done it?" Roberto asked with an arch of his eyebrows.

"Is this the classic literature paper for English? I have that too. I haven't finished," Ray shrugged, not too worried.

"I finished it the day they gave us that assignment. It took me like, a minute," Pietro answered.

"Ah don't have that one. Ah took tha poetry assignment instead."

"Isn't that longer?" Ray questioned.

"Not really," Rogue shook her head, reaching for the remote controller of the television set as she did. "If no one's watchin' it, Ah might as well turn it off."

"No, I'm watching it yo!"

"I've been watching it since you guys started talking about school," Lance stated.

"Same here," Fred nodded.

"It's too slow. I'm going out. Da Costa, I challenge you to a game."

"Again, Pietro? Man, we need to play a real game with more players," even as he complained, Roberto stood, walking out after the white-haired teen who was already picking up the soccer ball from its place by the door.

"Well I'm not playing one-on-one soccer with those two on my only day off in the week. I'll stick around and watch the movie, I guess," Tabby stated, picking up a can of orange soda.

"I'm watching it too," Scott voiced.

"Sure, why not," Ray shrugged.

"Oh fine, we'll leave it on. All y'all are impossible."

* * *

"How are we doing this, exactly?"

"Well, some of us can go in my car, some in Jean's, and the rest in Ray's car," Scott answered.

Jubilee was not convinced. "Uh huh. Are we all going to fit?"

"There's fifteen of us," Pietro stated. "Daniels, Jamie and Sam aren't back yet, remember. Oh, and Amara's not flying in until the day after tomorrow either."

"Make that twelve, Quickie. Kurt, Freddy and I are going to the Gut Bomb instead, but we'll meet up with you at the movies if you guys go," Todd stated.

"Ja, ve don't have to get a ride to ze mall vith everyone."

"Oh no, you're totally not getting out of this. This is a mandatory shopping spree," Kitty grinned.

"I still say there's no such thing as a mandatory shopping spree," Ray spoke, leaning against his car, not entirely content about having been made to go, though he had preferred to stay behind.

"Oh stop complaining, you can stay, we just need your car, I'll drive it," Tabby joked with a grin.

Ray did not appreciate the jesting at his expense. "I'm going to start locking up my car with chains if you don't keep joking about taking my car for joyrides."

"Oh that doesn't stop her, trust me," Lance spoke with the wisdom of experience.

"Anyway, are we all going to fit in the cars or what? Because if not, I can always take the X-Van out-"

"**No**, Bobby, stop asking."

* * *

Somehow they had managed to migrate to the Bayville Mall without any major difficulties. Somehow they had managed to 'lose' Fred, Kurt and Todd somewhere down the line near the Gut Bomb despite Kitty's insistence at a 'mandatory' shopping spree as a re-union event for the last month apart over the winter vacation. Somehow they had all piled into a men's clothes shop. Somehow he was now trying on a shirt and pants that he felt were far too elaborate and colourful (it had detailed vivid green and gold designs on it, a far cry from his usual choice of a simple black t-shirt) for his liking…yet somehow, he was not objecting to the actually matter of trying on such things. Well he wasn't objecting vocally. Yet. Somehow. And somehow in the changing room stalls next to him, Scott, Roberto, Ray, Pietro and Bobby were all doing the same. Well, minus the not vocal part for some.

And the mastermind to all this was a petite pony-tailed brunette in pink, of course.

"Avalanche, you bring out an evil side of Kitty," Ray remarked unhappily as he stepped out of his changing room, clad in a dark blue button-up shirt with silvery Celtic designs down one side and slim blue jeans.

"Yeah, one that got all the rest of the girls infected," Bobby nodded, wearing a light blue shirt and crisp white trousers and visibly uncomfortable in them. "I can't ice stuff in this."

"To be fair, Kitty only started the idea. Jubilee, Jean, Rahne and Tabby all got into the plot. I just can't believe Rogue did too," Pietro shot the white-banged auburn-brunette a glare, but shrugged it off almost immediately after. "Still, it's nice to have my stellar looks appreciated, and most of you have bad taste in clothing anyway, so you could use some decent new clothes."

"Ah told yah Pietro would get intah it once we started complimentin' him," Rogue mused with a smirk.

"And Scotty's already bought two shirts after Jean said they looked nice on him," Tabby chuckled. "Speaking of which, you look good, Lightning."

"Don't start."

"You know, I don't really mind this as much as these guys here, but I don't need new clothes and I've tried on stuff as a part of Kitty's bonding or re-bonding or whatever it was, so I'm going to go get some food or something now," Roberto stated. "Anyone else? Rahne?"

"Yeah, I'll go wi' ye Roberto. This is fun, but I was jist thinkin' abit some food."

"Take me with you or I may die," Bobby was all too serious.

"Oh come on, Bobby. It's fun," Jubilee laughed.

"It's fun for you because you get to see us all awkward and strange," Lance grumbled. "I swear, if I see anyone I know…"

"Oh but you look nice, Lance! I think you should wear stuff like this occasionally, you look good in it."

"Really Kitty? It's really not my thing though...but I guess I could get a shirt or something…"

"Oh at least give a good fight going down, man!" Ray groaned in exasperation.

"Oh it's not that bad Ray. Why don't you guys take a break from all this dress-up and we can all split up to do individual things? We can meet back up in the food court in an hour," Jean suggested.

"Sounds good. I'm going to the arcade," Bobby nodded quickly, glad to be getting away.

"I'll go with you," Jubilee said.

"And we're going to the food court now but we'll see you guys there," Roberto stated as he and Rahne headed out of the store.

"Well I'm going to go get a shirt for real now," Pietro stated. "You might as well drag Lance along, Kitty, he needs some new clothes and you're probably the only one that can convince him of this."

"Roguey and I'll go with you guys. Ray, you're coming too."

"No way, Boom Boom."

"Well Jean and I are going to the second floor, so we'll see you at the food court in an hour."

"Sure Scotty. Yes way, Ray."

"Ray, we'll never win. We're outnumbered. You might as well go with it." Lance advised.

* * *

"Something for your girlfriend?"

He turned, startled. "Oh, sorry, I didn't see you there. Um, yeah, I'm just looking. She's over there," he motioned to the other side of the store, where Kitty stood with Pietro, looking at some men's shirts. "Um, he's my friend. They're choosing something for me."

The attendant looked over at the direction and smiled. "Is she the young lady in the pink?"

"Yeah, that's her," he nodded absentmindedly, raising an eyebrow as he saw Kitty pointing to a vibrant red polo shirt.

"Well she looks like she'd look very nice in this shirt right here," the attendant picked up a light blue turtleneck, checking the tag. "Oh, this is a large. I don't think that'll fit her. Why don't you come this way and I'll see if I can't find a size for her."

He turned his attention back on the woman, less worried as Pietro put the red polo back down again. "Huh? Oh, yeah, sure, but aren't there more here?" he looked to the table with the assortment of different colour turtlenecks in slight confusion.

"Oh, we seem to be out of the light blue sizes here. But I can just check in the back if you come right this way."

"Oh, sure I guess."

* * *

"Ah say go with the blue, Ray."

"I say red. Red looks good on you, Lightning."

"Tabby…"

"Oh fine Ray. You're no fun. But you still look good in red. And you wear too much blue normally."

"Hey Tabby, we need a third opinion."

"Sure, Quickie. What about?"

"Kitty keeps saying she wants to try to convince Lance to wear polo shirts. Tell her this is a bad idea."

"Ah don't think Lance would evah actually wear stuff like that normally. That's more Scott's thing."

"Yeah, Quickie and Rogue have it; it's a no go, Kitty."

"See, there you have it. Two more voices of reason."

"I still think he'd look nice in it. I just think it'd be good if he had more of a variety of clothing. He has like, only black t-shirts."

"Leave the poor guy alone! Actually, no, he came willingly, forget him. Leave me alone. I can't believe I let you all drag me into this."

"Oh you're enjoying it, admit it Ray."

"You're delusional, Boom Boom."

* * *

"Hey did we have to come all the way to the back of the building? I thought you'd have some clothes in the back of the store or something."

"I wouldn't know, really."

The door locked behind her and she turned around slowly.

He knew he shouldn't have ignored the worried feeling that had slowly risen in his gut.

"Guess who's back."

He knew he shouldn't have ignored the instinctive feeling of danger.

"It's been a while, hasn't it, Avalanche?"

He should have known he was just trying to deny it all, anything that might ruin the good things he had now.

Damn it, his instincts were usually smarter than him, why didn't he listen to them?

He stared as his fears were confirmed, and the blonde attendant shape-shifted into her normal form from head to toe. Red hair. Black clothes. Blue skin.

He stepped backwards as the single word left his lips without his realisation.

"...Mystique."

She smirked vaguely, a brief second of bemusement before her usual glare returned. "Correct for once, Avalanche. Now try this little problem. I've always thought you would get into trouble with that X-girl of yours, but how is it that you managed to join them? And after leaving once, went back to them only to join them again, and with the rest of my Brotherhood as well at that?"

Already he was averting his gaze. "I...I didn't join as an X-Man this time, I... I..." he knew his voice was already quiet, barely audible. "...Mystique, what do you want?"  
She stepped closer to him, and on reflex he backed away.

"Revenge."

* * *

Revenge.

She was back.

Mystique.

She was back.

Revenge.

He didn't know how she had found him. He didn't know how she knew about everything, how he had joined the X-Men and left, and how they now lived at the Institute. He didn't know how she had known he would be at the mall today. He didn't know how she had found him in the store.

But none of it mattered, because, in the end, he knew she didn't need such information to control him.

She already did.

"Revenge. Magneto will pay," she repeated, eyes narrowing. "And as for you, you will leave the X-Men as of today. You are my Brotherhood and you are not to remain at Xavier's any longer."

Return? Leave?

He couldn't. He couldn't. The X-Men, who had once been his enemies, were his friends now, and the place he had once hated so much he now thought of fondly as a second home. He had a different life. He had somewhere to turn to for help, for help and guidance he could not ask from his Brotherhood family. He had a new life.

He was not an X-Man, he knew that. He wasn't even a New Recruit. He was a Brotherhood. He knew that. But he wasn't her Brotherhood. They weren't hers.

"...no."

He could see the shock in her eyes. The shock that instantly turned into rage.

"You will do as I say! You are my Brotherhood and you will do as I command!"

"...I...I'm grateful to you for bringing us together. I'm grateful to you for getting me out of my past and teaching me more about my powers. I'm grateful to you for...for when you protected us, when you protected me. But we're not going back. We don't want any part of your plots or your revenge. Just leave us alone."

He knew he wouldn't make it. He knew he wouldn't make it to the door, but he tried anyway. She grabbed him and when he resisted, she used his own momentum to throw him back into the metallic fencing behind them. Well, almost to the fencing behind them. He fell aside, his arm catching onto an open part of the fencing where the metal scraped deep into his flesh, tearing the skin and forming a gash that started to bleed almost straight away.

He stared up from the ground, a hand on the bleeding wound and already feeling a familiar dread but trying to hold it off with rebellious anger. Desperate anger. "Screw you and your revenge! I'm tired of being in the middle of all this! I just want to live my own life!"

"This is your life! I brought you here for your powers and you agreed to it of your own will. You are my Brotherhood and you will return!"

He stood up only to step back as she glared, stalking nearer.

"W-why is it always us?! We did our part to repay you, now leave us alone! Why can't you just leave us alone?!"

"You are mine! And you will return, whether you like it or not! I will have you, by choice or by force!"

As she had expected, his face immediately paled, understanding her threat all too clearly.

Backing away, he trembled.

She glared down his wide-eyed stare, and as routine, his gaze fell to the ground.


	20. Chapter 20 Truth & Recollection

**Chapter 20. Truth & Recollection.**

He could not fight back. He could not escape. He could not do anything.

He let his gaze fall to the ground and knew he had no way out. No way out... he would return to the mutant wars and battles, to all the hatred and revenge. He was a mutant. And he was a weapon.

No way out.

He could feel himself backing away shakily, almost to the wall before he could no longer face her hard gaze, and looked away. His gaze downcast as it had fallen so often in the past, he knew for sure. No way out.

No way out. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Nothing...but the last resort.

He had never fallen that far, never before. His pride had never allowed for it. He had managed to cling onto this in the desperate notion that as long as he clung to this, he would never completely give in. And... once he lost this, he would lose everything and truly be lost himself. He had never fallen to this... but he had no way out. This was the only thing he had left. This was the only thing he could do.

This was his last resort.

"...I...I'll do whatever you want me to do..." his dark brown bangs fell down past his eyes as he sank to his knees, his voice barely audible, trembling. Trembling, not out of fear, but of hopelessness and defeat.

No way out. Not for him.

But for them... for them he had to make a way out.

"...I'll do anything. Just leave them alone… please… I'm begging you… just leave them alone."

He could feel his voice failing, fallen to a bare whisper, but he swallowed and continued. "…Just leave them alone. I'll do whatever you want. I'm begging you Mystique, please... just let them live their own lives... Please... They don't deserve this. They don't deserve any of this..."

* * *

A new shirt and a jacket. Some hair gel. Leather fingerless gloves as a gift to Tabitha, who seemed to be keen on sporting them lately. The leisure to buy such things without concerning himself of the immediate and complete depletion of money. The ability to buy things instead of resorting to petty thievery.

Honestly, he could think of ways that life could be better. Maybe more money, some fame and glory. Stuff like that, sure that could be interesting. It might even be interesting enough to keep even him busy.

But honestly, he had no interest in such things anymore. He had changed, he knew. He had more friends now, and things weren't always so life-and-death and demanding. He could go to the movies without having to worry about bumping into and fighting mortal enemies (as they had been declared formerly). He could go buy things without constantly being worried about their money and starving then next day. He could actually see himself going somewhere in the future. He could actually see a future for himself. One that was not dependent on his mutant abilities and what he intended to do with them.

He was no longer just a mutant. He was also a teenager.

Of course, this had its own issues. He no longer had all his defenses up, ready to fight back against anything, anyone, the world itself. He no longer forced himself to be as detached as possible, keeping to himself and never letting anyone near save the select, select few that had managed to break through his defenses.

Without the defenses, without the self-controlled detachment, he could no longer deny that he wanted desperately to bring his torn family back together, longing for a normal family and daring to hope with the recent introduction of a normal life in most other aspects.

The only problem was, his family didn't have normal issues. His family had mutant issues.

He could not persuade his father to do anything. He could not even attempt to persuade. He was powerless against him, desperate to please, even as he knew that he was overly desperate.

He knew, but he couldn't help it.

* * *

This was not what she had been expecting.

Mystique actually stepped back. This, she hadn't predicted. This, she hadn't even imagined. This, she had never imagined. Sure, she had meant the threat to be, well, a threat, but she hadn't imagined that it would... that it would break Lance.

Completely.

Never had she heard him beg, not once. Never, not even during the worst of her rage, not even during the worst of Magneto's so-called tests and experiments, not even during the worst of Sabertooth's sadistic cruelty.

Once things had become regular, he had never put up a fight, but he had refused to beg.

He had even gotten himself seriously injured, several times, because of it, as Sabertooth was never one to like nor tolerate not getting what he wanted, and seldom let it pass with a mere few blows. But he had never allowed himself to be completely broken to them, no matter what they did. He had never begged. Now, he was on his knees, crying.

And he was begging.

Yet, it was not himself he was pleading for, but for the sake of others.

* * *

_-Flashback-_

She recalled the day with perfect clarity. The day she had since forced herself to forget.

When Mystique had returned home that day, she had not been happy. There had been some trouble with a parent at school, and then Magneto had called her in for some long meeting that really hadn't accomplished anything.

'_I hate incompetence...' she mused as she closed the door to the house. As expected, the other residents of the house quickly made their way over to the entrance at hearing the door. But tonight, the greeting__s were__ not of __their__ usual nervous nature. Actually, __they __w__ere__n't even for her._

"_Lance?"_

_Pietro was first to the door, not surprisingly, and immediately the light in his eyes died out at seeing that it was not his brunette friend. He lowered his gaze, both out of routine necessity and disappointment. "Oh, hey Mystique."_

"_Is it- oh. Hi Boss Lady." Todd and Fred went through similar phases._

_And then they were shuffling back into the living room. So much for her trained soldiers. _

"_You call this a line?!" Her shout snapped them to attention, and they filed in accordingly in front of her. _

"_Where is Avalanche?"_

_The question made them all flinch, but they remained silent._

"_Don't make me repeat this another time- where is Avalanche?"_

"_We don't know," Pietro answered quickly, noting the warning threat in her tone. "We were kind of hoping you __did__..."_

_This really wasn't making her day any better. "All of you, clean up that mess you call a living room! I'll be back."_

_

* * *

_

And with that she had stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

She hadn't expected what she would find, nor had she been prepared for it.

* * *

_It wasn't often Sabertooth would dare to act without Magneto or Mystique being there, but it wasn't impossible__ nor even particularly unusual for his character—she was__ certain that the feral would take every chance that came up. She drove to the warehouse that they used as one of their bases, scowling at the concrete buildings._

_She entered to darkness, and flicked on the light without hesitance. She saw no signs of anyone being there, much less a __big and rather__noticeable__ mutant such as Sabertooth. But just as she was about the call the search off and decide on grounding the earthquake-inducing teen for staying out late, she spotted something in the corner. Walking closer, she realized that her search was over.__ Some dark crimson stains of blood could be found__ on him that she noted even from her distance, but if he was here, there was no doubt Sabertooth must have been the reason, so Mystique was not surprised._

"_Get up!" she snapped, knowing that if he was asleep from fatigue, her voice was more than enough to have him jump up to his feet when she sounded this mad._

_But he didn't react, and that just aggravated her further. _

_Stalking over, she was fully prepared to give him retribution for daring to ignore her. Until she got closer and saw him._

_

* * *

_

She hadn't been prepared at all.

She had never thought that Sabertooth would dare to go so far.

* * *

_There was blood. A lot of it. Much more than the usual, even with Sabertooth. __Upon closer inspection, m__uch of his __dark-coloured __clothes were soaked in the crimson liquid, and blood was on his face as well, on his forehead and the edges of his mouth. His hair was matted and clumped, spots stained with blood. _

_Stunned, she knelt down and gently lifted his head up, but at the touch Lance recoiled back. Annoyance __returned to her, though now the aggravation stemmed mostly from what Sabertooth had done to one of her boys. She knew she was doing it, and she knew the boy was not at fault, but she snappe__d an order at him once more__ out of the need to do something to let some of the rage out. W__hile he quivered a bit more at the viciousness in her voice, __however, __nothing more happened. She realized he was still unconscious, and that those must have been reflexive reactions. _

_Unconscious. Most likely from the pain, Mystique guessed darkly, eyes narrowing. _

_Sabertooth would pay for this. She __had __never liked the other's sadistic 'playing' with her boys, but__ had__ let it go with small damages, since Magneto had not ordered him away and it would make little difference for her to forbid him__—the __feral may be afraid of her, but he wasn't that afraid. _

_Recently things had gotten more often, and more concentrated on Lance, but she hadn't thought that he'd dare to hurt one of her boys this badly. _

_Y__es, Creed would pay._

_Leaving Lance for the moment, she went to the security room to get what the cameras would have recorded. Surely, Creed had forgotten to get rid of the tape. He was not one for being discreet. She was disappointed however, finding no tapes, and thus, no proof. _

_No matter. She returned to the still teen, who had not moved nor awoken during her absence. She knew it wasn't a good idea to move him in the state he was in, but decided to risk it and carefully picked him up. The boy wasn't as heavy as she had expected. She briefly wondered if the frequent meetings with Sabertooth had been that influential on him, but pushed the matter out of her mind._

_

* * *

_

She had placed him carefully in the backseat of the car, noting further that he didn't seem to have any major permanent injuries, contrary to what the visible wounds seemed to imply. No broken bones, though she did see some bruising which likely meant some sprains. No major facial lacerations. Just blood loss and a battered body.

She had taken this information to try to pass his injuries off to be trivial in her mind, but even then she had known it was futile. He had no broken bones and no severe slashes, but the way the wounds were inflicted, she could tell it had been all intended to cause as much pain as possible. Without permanent damage, most likely so that should Lance have made it back home before she had and gotten the blood off him, she would not have noticed anything had even happened to him, signing his fatigue and soreness off to be insignificant and of little concern.

That had been how Sabertooth had gotten away with so much before this incident. She had never paid any attention as long as the boys seemed more or less fine on appearances. Knowing this, Sabertooth had never placed any severe wounds visibly, none on the face and few on the visible arms. And he had gotten away with all of it in such a way.

* * *

_Once she was back at the house, she left him in the backseat of the car, and headed back inside. As expected, the three inside immediately scrambled up to a line this time__, not even daring to ask her about the whereabouts of their friend in the face of her obviously apparent anger_

"_Go get some groceries for tomorrow," she ordered._

"_But we're not out of foo-"_

_Her glare easily cut off Pietro's statement, and nodding, the three left without even daring to ask for money to accomplish the task. _

_As soon as they had turned down the driveway and into the street and out of sight, she returned to her car, and proceeded to carry the brunette teen inside and up to his room. He trembled the entire way, and even after she had laid him on his bed, the shaking didn't stop. She stared at him for a moment, hesitant, but turned around in the end.__ She could do nothing but let him recover._

_Just as she __stepped away__ however, she swerved back around at hearing his voice._

"_I'm sorry..." it was almost inaudible, but in the current silent state of the house, she could hear it clearly. "I'm sorry... don't leave me..."_

_What was the boy saying??_

"_Don't leave__ me here__, mom... I'm sorry..."_

_He was hallucinating. _

_Wonderful. What was she supposed to do now? ...If she left him alone, he'd get over it, she was sure. With th__e__ decision made, she headed for the door once more._

"_I'm sorry! Don't leav-" he couldn't finish, a choked sob overtaking him as he tried to get up. "I'm sorry... don't leave me alone... don't leave__ me here__..."_

_He really thought she was __his mother__, Mystique realized in disbelief. _

"_It's all right," she found herself saying, to greater disbelief. _

_What was she doing? Terrorist work, she could do. Martial arts, she could do. Even managing a high school, she could do. But handling the hallucinations of one of her __mutant-soldiers__-to-be-with-her-training mutant charges,__she could not do. Nonetheless she found herself walking back to him._

"_Don't leave me__ here__... take me home... don't leave me __behind__..."_

"_...I won't," she attempted, but he didn't seem to hear her. The whole situation was an awkward one for her, but her maternal instincts could not be stalled any longer._

_Strangely enough, he did not scream out or yell when she touched his forehead, merely flinching__ slightly__. Brushing the wet and clumped hair away, she met his wide-eyed stare with softer eyes that she would never have let him see had she not been certain he would remember nothing of this entire ordeal. Somehow, just by her brushing away his hair, he seemed calmer, less frightened. _

"_Please, don't leave__ me__..." he whispered as he sank back into the bed. _

_He fell quiet after that, and Mystique wondered if it had passed. She couldn't see his eyes due to his long bangs falling in front of his face, so she wasn't sure if he was unconscious once more or not. She reached over to check, but there was no reaction, only quiet breathing. He was asleep._

_She remembered his file- she took it as part of her job to know their history- and she knew he had been left at an orphanage at a mere age of five. And she knew for a fact that his first adoptive family had not been a good one, and that it took both his social service worker and parole officer to get him out of it. _

_She stifled a scowl at noticing the blood on him once more, and left to get the medical supplies._

_

* * *

_

She had cleaned off some of his more severe injuries and applied a few bandages and ointments where necessary, but did all with quiet precision and as little contact as possible, only tending to the most severe of wounds. She hadn't wanted to wake him, or worse, have him wake and hallucinate once more.

It had been an hour or so when the other boys returned. She glared down all timid questions and sent them to bed, stating simply that Lance was sleeping in his room, but not allowing them to see him. She had left a bottle of water and a cup in his room on the desk, as well as clean clothes on the bed next to him that she had managed to find in his drawer.

She had done all that she could. It felt lacking.

* * *

_S__he could not sleep. She would question the boy first thing in the morning, to find out what __Creed__ had done to get him in that state. And Creed would hear from her for taking things so far... she stopped short in her thoughts__when she heard the sound...sobbing? Yes, that was sobbing._

_She was sure of it, though it was quiet. She grabbed a few more bandages in case, left her room, and approached it, wondering if it was another hallucination, though of what, she couldn't imagine. Even in the darkness she could see that he was sitting up, and when she reached to turn the light on, she found him staring at her in trepidation. He was trembling, pressed up against the wall, beads of sweat on him. The tears were no longer there, but she could see the trails they had only just left. Pressed up so hard against the wall, he must have reopened some wounds. But all he was doing was staring at her, fear evident in his eyes._

_And the fear, it was of her. _

_She could tell. It wasn't a hallucination. His eyes were too clear for that, the fear too vivid. Her eyes narrowed. She had never noticed the fear before, not in this degree. She started towards him, and immediately, his head snapped down, and the quivering increased. She paused, but he didn't seem to notice. He was terrified of her. It had only been during the hallucinations that she had managed to calm him, to even comfort him. Now, he was awake, and she was the reason for his fear. _

_She stopped in front of him only to drop the few rolls of bandages in his lap, and quickly turned and left, lest he see her softer eyes before they could return to their usual icy coldness. _

_He never remembered his hallucinations, but she never forgot._

_She checked in later in the night, a few hours after. He was asleep. The water lay untouched, still in its exact position on the desk._

_

* * *

_

She recalled the next morning, when Lance had still been recovering from the previous night, physically less than emotionally and mentally. He had not dared to raise his gaze to hers, nor spoke unless absolutely necessary. He had tried to avoid her completely, actually.

Mentally he seemed to be in a constant fearful recollection of the previous night, openly apprehensive and timid in a way he had rarely been in the past beatings, and never before under normal circumstances.

She recalled that Lance had been petrified of her because he had, in his weakened state, dropped and broken two of the dishes while attempting to wash them. He must have no doubt been in much pain. Yet, he had been trying to do the dishes, and finding himself completely at fault for failing, expecting retribution.

And later he had thanked her. Actually thanked her.

* * *

_She had told him to stay in his room, in case he would try to do some more work in his fragile state, and after that, he hadn't dared to come out, apparently more afraid of her order than she had thought. So she resorted to making a __plate__ of spaghetti so the boy wouldn't starve._

_When she opened the door, he was sitting on the bed, but __hastily __stood up at her entrance, eyes down on the ground,__silent._

_She put the dish on the desk, and noticed his gaze on it, despite the fact that he quickly looked at the floor again, and realized that he hadn't eaten anything all morning, and likely, not since lunch the day before._

"_Eat," she stated, looking at him to make sure he had heard._

_He nodded faintly, but the hesitation lingered on his features. _

"_What is it?"_

_Tentatively, he glanced up just a bit, not daring anything more, expecting to be hit even then. "C-can I t-take a shower...?" _

_It was only then that she noticed the blood still on his hair, and the faint traces of blood still on his neck and arms. The order of 'stay in your room' had apparently taken on much _

_more meaning than she had intended._

"_Eat first," she replied as she left. "After you __wash__, come see me."_

_From the living room, she easily heard him walking down the stairs, carefully carrying the now empty dish down. He didn't seem to realize where she was, going straight into the kitchen and putting the dishe__s__ in the sink. She could hear him still, and knew by his slow movements that he must be acting extra cautiously, not to mention still in pain. But she let him finish washing the dish and didn't draw attention to herself when he went back up the stairs, still slowly. It was about an hour later that he came back down, and this time, he looked around for her, then spotting her, timidly made his way over. "M__…__Mystique?"_

"_Sit down, Avalanche."_

_Tense, he did so, sitting on the edge of the couch, barely on __it__, eyes on the floor, never looking up._

"_I want you to tell me, Avalanche, what Sabertooth did to you last night."_

_He started trembling faintly at that, and did not answer._

"_Lance, I want you to tell me-"_

"_I-I c-can't..." the trembling was obvious now, and he closed his eyes, as if waiting for her to hit him._

_She reined her anger. "Why?"_

_He didn't answer, but remained still, now expecting even more to be hit. _

"_Why, Lance. Tell me why." her voice couldn't hide the anger now. _

_He cringed, awaiting punishment._

_She didn't understand. Why wasn't he telling her? How was she supposed to get revenge if he would not tell her? What could possibly be holding him back from telling her?_

_...Was he that scared of her? Was she that horrible? _

_...Was she worse than Creed?_

_Anger built up in her, and she lashed out at him, the back of her hand hitting his face squarely on the side. He didn't try to defend himself or dodge. Instead the full force of the blow hit him, and he fell off the couch. He winced, more at the pain of falling on his wounds than the hit, but that was all. He remained on the floor, waiting for the next blow. _

_Staring at him, she growled out a curse, and then got up, stalking of__f._

_

* * *

_

She had driven back to the warehouse after that, trying to find some solid evidence of what had happened, trying to find out what exactly had taken place. She found no such proof, and instead cursed the feral mutant out before contacting Magneto.

He had been of little help. He had never deemed her Brotherhood to be as powerful as he needed, and as such, expendable. Her boys, and he thought them expendable. He had no rights to them. No one did. No one thought them of any value but her. It was her Brotherhood, and they were her boys.

* * *

_When she returned, a little earlier than when school let out, she found him sleeping on his bed, in his room, fatigue evident on his face. It seemed he had, despite her absence from the house and no second order, stayed in his room during the entire time she had been out._

_His bangs covered the gash Creed had given him, but she noticed the bruise on his face more easily. The spot she had hit. She wondered if the blow had been so hard._

_She didn't talk to him the rest of the day, except to give the usual orders, and he avoided her as much as he could. _

_The other boys were happy to have him back, and though he had only been gone a part of one night, they acted as if it had been much longer. They asked about his injuries, to which he answered half-truthfully, minimizing the story on the damage, and after getting a clueless shrug from him, as to whether or not he'd be attending school the next day, they just nodded, apparently satisfied with the answers and moving on, proceeded to talk of other things to fill the void, filling him in on what had taken place at school and so forth._

_

* * *

_

The night's occurrence had been what had shocked her the most.

If she hadn't been prepared for the previous night and the day, she had been absolutely stunned in the sheer shock of what took place late that night.

* * *

_Late that night, after the rest of the house was asleep, Lance had apprehensively approached her room, the day's strength gone in him. _

"_...M-Mystique?"_

"_What is it, Avalanche?" she did not make any efforts to quell the annoyance in her voice._

"_I-I just... that is..." he mumbled quietly, despite the well-known fact that she despised both mumbling and stuttering. "I-I just wanted to..."_

"_What is it, Avalanche?!" she snapped, and she noticed the flinch that passed through him accordingly._

"_Th-thank you," he stammered, before he hastily took leave, murmuring a quick "g'night"._

_She didn't understand. Why would the boy thank her? She had terrified him,__ hit him hard enough to bruise him. She had let Creed do this to him. Why would the boy thank her?_

_She did not understand._

_

* * *

_


	21. Chapter 21 Ulterior Motives

Thank you for reading and reviewing, chibi Nataly, anon, Goofn1 and amberkittie!

This chapter brings in something we've been dying to do since the beginning of the series, oh so long ago. But no spoilers, read on to see what it is.

We were really tempted to make this two chapters because not only is it long enough, but there's a perfect cliffhanger point perfectly in the middle of the chapter (it's really quite obvious-- take a guess as to which line it is!). But we decided to go with the full chapter as is. Hopefully it works better this way than splitting it would have.

* * *

**Chapter 21. Ulterior Motives.**

She had done this to him.

She had done this to him. Realization struck full force, truly and clearly for the first time. She didn't know what she had allowed herself to become. Taking a step backwards she stared in frozen horror at the teen that had given up all hope, and had subjected himself to a life without will, a life she was to control.

And this, she had forced upon him.

In the face of the full force of this knowledge, all she could do was flee.

And she did, turning into a raven and flying away.

Hearing the hasty flap of wings, Lance looked up, but Mystique was already out of sight. She had not said anything, merely left. He didn't know what to make of it, but he could not bear thinking about it, for fear it meant a refusal. His shoulder shook as tears fell onto the concrete ground, but he didn't let himself linger. It would be the worst case scenario if someone were to walk in on this scene. If chances were below low now, it would be far past extinct should he be the reason Mystique was found out earlier than her wishes. And he would never be able to keep everyone else out of this then.

Shakily, he pushed off the dirty floor; he hated his body for betraying the state of his mind, but the trembling he could not stop. He headed into the nearest bathroom, and after allowing himself a small sigh of relief at making sure it was empty, he locked the door. Turning on the faucet, he gathered the falling water with shaky hands, not caring that his gloves got wet, and splashed his face with it. Twice he repeated the act, but then the tears threatened to fall again, and he put his head under the water directly, letting the cold permeate his hair and drip down his neck and over his trembling shoulders.

* * *

Scott was, at this point, wondering if Lance had even indeed gone this way. The hour had passed and they had gathered to discover that Lance had wandered off sometime early in the hour and could not to be found. He couldn't blame the other teen for wanting to escape from Pietro, and Kitty's insistence of shopping 'extravagantly', as Pietro had guessed, but that could be the result of his own dislike of trying on clothes that weren't his style. Then again, Scott highly doubted that Lance would have enjoyed the dressing up games, though he had done some earlier in the day for Kitty's sake. This debate was quickly put on hold however, when he spotted Lance stepping out of the bathroom. Or, at least, he was pretty certain it was Lance. His motions weren't as usual, there seemed to be a certain lacking element that Scott couldn't quite place a hand on; and his hair looked a little darker than usual... no, it looked... wait, it didn't just look wet, it was wet.

"Lance!"

He immediately turned around, and Scott wasn't sure if that was tenseness he spotted.

"Where have you been?"

"Oh... I was just looking around, and then I got lost..."

"Okay. We were beginning to get worried. What happened to your hair? Why's it all wet?"

"I...got hot. I think the mall's being cheap with the air conditioning."

"It's the third week of January, Lance. I don't think they'd turn on the cool air now."

"Well, I mean they've got the heat on too high...you know what I mean."

Scott wasn't sure what was wrong, but he was sure something was wrong. Lance seemed obviously distracted, not even making full eye contact as they spoke. Scott just couldn't place what was wrong yet.

"Listen, I'm feeling kind of tired... can you drop me off and come back? You can tell everyone I left early after you get back."

"Oh. Sure, I guess I could do that... are you feeling sick?"

"No, just a little tired. And I don't think I need any new dressing tips from our resident experts."

The darker brunette managed a small smile, but even through his crimson sunglasses Scott could see that it wasn't wholly genuine. Taking it as Lance's way of hiding his fatigue, Scott nodded.  
"Sure. Let's go before someone catches us and makes you try on more things," he joked.

Lance grinned, but it left his face with hardly any time to be seen.

* * *

The car ride was more or less silent. Lance didn't make any conversation, and, guessing that it was the result of his tiredness, Scott didn't either. As the car pulled up to the front door, Lance gave Scott a slight smile, getting out.

"Thanks Summers."

"You're welcome. And am I Summers again?"

"Oh... um, habit I guess. You'd better get back before everyone gets worried."

"Yeah. See you in a bit, Lance."

Lance gave a faint nod as the other teen drove off, then turned around and headed inside. Quickly he moved towards his room, but his hopes of reaching it without running into anyone on the way died out as Hank turned the corner.

"Back already? I thought I heard a car pull up."

"J-just me. I, I was feeling a bit tired, so I thought I'd leave early..." Lance looked away from the curious gaze, heading for his room at a quickened pace. "I'm just going to go to my room."

"All right; come see me if you feel sick," Hank couldn't help the worried and somewhat confused glance, but let the teen go.

_//Hank, could you come to my office? I've just received a worrying phone call—something has happened, but I do not wish to alarm everyone, so it would be best if we talked now. I've asked Logan to meet the students back when they return.//_

_//I'll be right there, Professor.//_

* * *

Closing the door firmly, he locked it before rushing to grab his duffel bag, throwing his few clothes in. After zipping it up, Lance stared at it for a second, hesitating. Moving to the desk he had come to regard as his own, he took a piece of paper and a pen, scrawling out a line before dropping both back onto the desk. He hesitated for a second, his hand reaching into his pocket, fingers brushing over the metallic tip of the key he had come to carry around always, though he had never made use of it since the first and last time. He forced the memory to fade and picked out the motorcycle key, slowly placing it on top of the piece of paper.

He had no choice.

He turned away from the desk and the items lying on top of it, instead turning to the window on the other side of the room. He did not want to risk running into Hank again, or worse, Professor Xavier, or worst, Logan. He opened the window.

Another second of hesitation, then he was outside.

And leaving the second place he had ever considered his home... and what he expected would be the last.

* * *

He found his hand shaking once more as he reached for the knob on the door of the building that had been his first real home in his entire life.

Trying to calm his breathing—he was panting, not as much from running the entire way over as from apprehension, anticipating the worst. He allowed himself just one extra second before turning the doorknob and opening the door.

He swallowed hard before even attempting the faint call.

"M-Mystique..?"

He heard footsteps coming down the stairs as he closed the door behind him, but didn't dare look up. That is, not until he heard the voice. An unfamiliar, unanticipated voice with an unexpected question.

Not that it meant the speaker wasn't angry.

"Who are you?!"

He stared, wondering if Mystique was playing some game with him, but quickly decided, at her narrowing glare, to go with it, whatever it was.

"L-Lance. Lance Alvers..."

When her threatening glare did not loosen up, he wondered if he should have answered with his codename. After all, it was the name Mystique used, his mutant name, his mutant identity. Though, now that he wasn't using his powers anymore... well, no, with Mystique he'd be using them again, regardless of the dangers that Hank had told him about.

"Avalanche..." he added, his voice rapidly losing what little strength it had when she stalked forward, rage radiating from her.

"If you were supposed to go with her, you're too late."

"W-what?"

"Mystique. If you were supposed to go with her, you're too late. She already left."

"Sh-she left? Y-You..."

"I saw her leave, yes. She just left! And without me! Just left me here!"

Lance was speechless. He was completely lost as to how to react. He couldn't think of one good reaction to this alien situation.

"I-I...I'm going to put my stuff up in my room..."

"Wait."

He froze.

"You live here?"

"Um... yes..."

"So she didn't leave just me," she murmured. "Just you?"

He had no idea how to answer that. He cautiously studied her expression, hoping for some sign as to what answer she wanted from him, but found none. Instead, she seemed to be getting angrier at his prolonged gaze. He quickly looked away.

"...just me." He said with a shaky voice at last, bracing for a violent reaction. But none came.

"I see... Mystique... Before she left...she said..." suddenly, her voice was quiet, and Lance wasn't sure if he was supposed to go upstairs now, or not.

"She said... she said my brother lives in this town. I'm not sure if he lives here or not... it didn't look like there was anyone here, except me and Mystique, since Agatha left yesterday... Do... do you know my brother?"

"I-I don't know," he stammered, taken off guard by the sudden change in behavior, from raging anger to an almost timid need for answers.

He thought she looked...sad, and lonely, when she turned away, but she did not say anything more, and he dared not ask for fear that she would turn to enraged shouts once more... if not more.

Instead he took the break from the questioning as permission to go to his room, and hastily climbed up the stairs and into the familiar room. Despite the situation, seeing his room managed to make him feel more at ease. His hand customarily went to the doorknob to close it, but at realizing the lack of audibility that would create, he left it open- while he would've much preferred to have at least that barrier of defense in between him and Mystique—who seemed to be extra…moody today, if not plain strange—he didn't want to accidentally 'ignore' anything Mystique might order by not hearing it. As he looked around, he noted, with a little pain, the lack of his few books and photos- the corner they had occupied on his desk was now bare; he guessed Mystique hadn't liked the messiness. In fact, his entire desk was empty, save a couple sheets of paper.

Dropping his duffle bag on the bed, he walked over to the desk to get the pieces of paper organized, lest he put Mystique in a bad mood by leaving the mess there. But as his hand reached to pick them up, he recognized handwriting that was not his. Hoping that he hadn't bothered anything of Mystique's, he read the contents haltingly.

* * *

_Avalanche...Lance.  
__I did not want to admit it.  
__It is my greatest shame and my worst sin. But I cannot change the past. I am sorry for all I have done, for my hand in your pain as well as the pains of the other boys. I do not expect you to forgive me, or to understand what led me to those sins. I have done a lot of wrong in my life, but for betraying the trust you four once risked giving me, I have repeated wrongs that haunt me still, and will until the end.  
__My hatred and need for vengeance has turned me into something terrible, and for making you four—especially you, Avalanche—Lance—the sacrifice to this thirst I have reared for violence, I am sorry. I will never be able to make up for what I have done to you, but rather than face this, I have decided to leave, lest I return to my vicious ways. I realize on many levels that this is taking the weak, coward's way out, and you know of my hatred of weakness, but it is all I can do. I know that, while in the beginning, I could lay some claim to this, I no longer have that privilege, but I hope that you will forgive me for calling you four my boys this one last time. _

_Please believe me. _

_I am sorry._

_Mystique._

* * *

His eyes darted across the page another time, and another, but the words did not change. No matter how many times he checked, the letter remained the same. Next to the sheet was a set of papers, paper-clipped together, and if Lance wasn't hallucinating, which he wasn't so sure of anymore, he could swear that was a deed and other related documents. The last thing on the desk was an envelope.

For a long moment he didn't dare touch it, but with shaky hands he finally picked it up. And immediately put it down, after opening it and seeing hundred dollar bills. Many hundred dollar bills. A thick bundle of hundred dollar bills.

Clearly, this was not meant for him.

He must be hallucinating.

He must be.

Gathering it all up, he carefully placed it on one side of the desk. It was not for him. He must be hallucinating. He was probably just in shock over Mystique's return. He must be hallucinating. He had to be imagining things. This could not be real.

He sat down on the bed, stunned still, and was just about to give up on all efforts to understand the past fifteen minutes, when footsteps neared, and through the doorway, she appeared.

Only, now, Lance wasn't sure who she was after all.

"My brother..." she started, and Lance was surprised to hear her voice as shaky as his had been minutes ago.

"My brother... his name is Pietro. Pietro Maximoff."

* * *

As the group filed in through the front door, Logan was sure to check that they had only things that had been on the list; after Bobby and Sam's 'rival Jubilee's fireworks' week, it had become almost routine for him to keep an eye- and a nose- out for any unannounced purchases.

While he did not find any such purchases, he did note the lack of one earthquake-inducing teen.

"Where's Shakedown?"

"Lance left early," Pietro answered. "He should be around resting. He said he was tired."

"He came back by himself?"

"Scott dropped him off, and then came back," Roberto nodded.

"He's probably in our room, yo," Todd suggested.

"I hope he's not tired from shopping and trying on clothes. I don't think we did that much." Kitty had a worried look, but Logan noted that it wasn't anything too serious that Half-Pint was worried about, so there must not have been any major incidents or the likes.

"I'll check on him," Tabby stated, but before she could head over, Logan cut in.

"No, I'll check on him. You kids need to get to dinner."

"But-"

Logan cut off any argument Pietro could produce.

"And after dinner is a Danger Room session. You should go get some food now so you don't have to do the session right after your meals."

Taking his last line with a new sense of warning, they all filed into the dining room. They couldn't help glancing back down the hall, but the current situation of deducing what awaited them after dinner in the Danger Room, and wondering even more if they wanted to know, distracted them. In any case, if Lance was resting, which was likely, he probably would not want to be bothered. Or maybe he was even already eating in the dining room and Logan just hadn't known.

Logan headed down the hall with a small chuckle at the teens' quick response. But as he neared the dorm halls, an unexpected, odd feeling crept over him, and he quickened his steps without quite knowing why. He grabbed the doorknob with more haste than usual, but it didn't open.

Locked.

"Hey Shakedown, open up."

No answer.

Logan briefly wondered if he was sleeping, but doubted that he wouldn't be able to hear, even in his sleep. He knew for a fact that Lance did not sleep deeply.

"Shakedown! You sleeping in there?"

Still no answer.

Logan didn't know why, but he had a bad feeling about this. Instinct told him something was up, and that the something was not good. His instincts were never wrong.

"Lance!"

No answer. Adamantium claws flew out, and Logan promptly sliced the door knob off. The door swung open at his insistence. And though he had still half expected it, hoped for it, Logan was not met with the annoyed look of the owner of the room. In fact, said owner wasn't even present.

* * *

"I'm Wanda," she added, at seeing his stunned expression. "Wanda Maximoff."

"You...you're... Pietro's sister?" Lance had no idea how his dry mouth was pulling off the task of speaking.

"You know him?!"

"I...yeah... he's one of my best friends..."

"Where is he?!"

"I-I- are you really Wanda Maximoff?"

"Yes! Do you want me to prove it?!" her hands started glowing blue, and Lance quickly shook his head. Even if she wasn't Mystique, the girl had a temper that reminded Lance of the shape-shifter, and he wasn't keen on finding out more on that subject.

"I... can... um, take you to him..."

She seemed troubled at that suggestion. Though, with his full knowledge of Pietro's past, Lance could kind of understand.

"If you don't want to do it immediately, you could wait to see him."

She quickly nodded at that.

"You're... alone here, aren't you." He still wasn't quite sure this was real, but as strange as things were, it seemed to be.

"...Except for you."

"Well... truth is, I used to live here. And this is still my home. But I'm living somewhere else right now."

"Oh..." the disappointment she couldn't hide; it didn't seem a comfortable expression on her face, yet by the look in her eyes, Lance could tell she had been let down far too many times to be surprised.

"I'll take you with me, if you want... if you want," he quickly repeated, at seeing her eyes narrow.

"...Why?"

"Um... what?"

"Why? Why would you help me?"

And that was when Lance realized that she was one of them.

"My father locked me up so I wouldn't get in his way. Mystique brought me here so she could have my powers. What do you want me for?"

"Nothing." Lance did not back down at her intensified glare, and set to explaining since she was obviously highly skeptical of his claim and intentions. "Both your father, Magneto, and Mystique wanted me for my powers. But I'm just me now. I don't want to use your powers for war, or for revenge. I just want to help. If you'll let me."

* * *

He found the room empty, curtains drawn open, revealing open windows as well. He glanced around for something that would give him a hint and allow him to venture a guess at this situation. The drawers for clothes had been pulled out, and lay empty. His eyes travelled across the room full circle, and then noticed the note on the desk; he pushed the keys off the paper, grabbed it and read it with instinctive urgency.

_I'm sorry. I tried._

"Damn kid. What's he up to now..." Logan murmured, tossing the note back down. He walked around the room once, but found nothing to help him. The only thing he knew was that Lance had written that note, and that Lance's clothes were missing. With a growl, he picked up the note again. One sentence, that was all. Not really anything to go by. He shoved the note in his pockets, and headed out the room. This, he would have to inform Charles and Hank about immediately, even if they were presently engaged in urgent talk about the break out at the asylum and who could be involved. But just as he started out, turning towards the door, he heard someone carefully making their way down the hall. And a second later, the footsteps froze, just outside the door—probably at seeing the state of the doorknob. Logan had no trouble making out the shadow of the person.

"Wolv-?"

"What are you up to?"

Lance knew he had guessed correctly when the swift adamantium claws reached the side of his neck.

"New greeting method? I like 'hello' better."

"I told you the last time, if you ever tried to run away again, you'd answer to these."

"Well they didn't ask me a question."

"Don't kid around, Shakedown."

"I went for a walk. Did I break any laws? I only meant to break one or two."

Logan frowned, and the staring contest ensued. It wasn't until Logan's claws sheathed that one looked away—Lance turned to his desk, and noted the lack of a certain piece of paper.

"You took it."

"Took what."

"The... never mind."

"This?" Logan held up the note in question.

Lance didn't answer, but proceeded to toss his duffel bag on the bed. Logan was not deterred. As Lance headed back towards the door, he spoke.

"Shakedown..."

"Sorry, I need to go; I'll talk to you later, Wolverine."

"No." He was not distracted by Lance's hasty exit, and instead took a hold of the teen by the arm to prevent him from leaving. He quickly let go when he saw Lance wince.

"Or, I guess I'll talk to you now." Putting his free hand under the previously ripped shirt sleeve and on the gash underneath that was now threatening to bleed again, Lance stood still.

"How'd that happen?" Logan frowned at the wound, not having even noticed it prior to this reaction, a fact that said a lot about his current level of tension and concern.

"...I tripped."

"Is that so."

"Yeah."

"What were you thinking of doing, taking all your things with you and leaving this little note?"

"Nothing."

"Shakedown..."

He cut in. "My name is Lance."

* * *

She picked up the last of her clothes, putting them in the bag. She glanced at the clock, wondering how long it would take for him to get back. He had said he would be walking, and had asked her to wait. She wouldn't have minded the walk, but had nodded simply to his suggestion of bringing a car around back to pick her up while she packed. She was in no hurry. In fact, she could do to delay it as much as possible.

She wondered what the papers he had been staring at for so long before he had left were, and why he had been staring so intently at them. She wondered if Mystique had meant for things to go this way from the beginning, for her to leave and for him to take her to Charles Xavier. She doubted it—Mystique had been planning revenge against Magneto, but she had already spoken less than fondly of Charles Xavier as well. Yet Mystique had left, abruptly and without explanation. Just like that. And she had just been talking about getting people back into the house this morning, so it had taken Wanda completely off guard. She felt... she knew she should be angry at Mystique for leaving like that, but anger wasn't the biggest issue at the moment. It felt like she had been abandoned, and it did not agree with her. She felt worse than angry. She was too unsure of her future now to be angry. She felt...lost. And all Mystique had done was merely tell her that Pietro was in Bayville.

Pietro...

She was not going with Lance for any reason other than the fact that she could not remain here alone. Realistically speaking, she simply could not make it alone. This was for survival.

She was not going with him to see him. She wasn't going to see him at all. This was for survival. She hated him.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she glanced at the guitar standing against the stairs, next to her. He had so carefully placed the guitar there, affection for the instrument visible to even her. She wondered why it was so important to him, how a mere possession could bring such fond caution in a person. Then again, maybe that was normal, and she just didn't know because she hadn't had any material possessions in such a long time. She had been locked up for so long... by that monster. And Pietro... Pietro had never tried to rescue... but perhaps he hadn't been able to... no, he had never gone against their father's wishes. He stood against her, just like their so called father. He was just like him. She hated their monster of a father, and she hated Pietro just as much for letting the monster lock her up. She did. He wouldn't have changed. He couldn't have changed. People didn't change. She hated him. She did.

She wasn't going to see him.

She was alone now. She had no where to turn to, no one to rely on. Agatha Harkness had left the day before. Mystique had abandoned her without as much as a coherent explanation, only leaving her with advice to get help from this Avalanche, who apparently would be able to take her to Charles Xavier… who had already visited her before, proving to be less than effective in getting her out of the asylum, which made her question his help now… but at least she did know him. Avalanche—Lance, as he had said—seemed decent and genuine in his efforts to help her, which was a foreign idea in itself. But he had said he was friends with... Pietro. Why did everything go back to Pietro?

...or rather, why did she keep thinking back on Pietro.

…he couldn't have changed.

She wasn't going to see him. Regardless of her presently lost situation, regardless of everything, she was not going to see him.

People didn't change.

She wasn't going to see him.

...not just to see him, anyway.

* * *

"Lance Alvers." he repeated. "Avalanche."

Logan hadn't ever really noticed the teen being bothered by his choice of address, but he could tell that right now, the issue mattered.

A lot.

"All right. Lance. Tell me the truth- what were you going to do?"

"...I was going to run off. But I don't have to anymore. Mystique... Mystique came back. But she... Wanda's waiting for me. I need to bring her here so she can meet Professor Xavier and ask if she can live here. Can I tell you everything after that?"

It took him a moment to first accept the straight answer, as he had been expecting more avoidance. Then it took him another second to realise that Lance had just said that Mystique was back. Then the last second at the mention of the name—Wanda.

"Wanda? Magneto's daughter?" The same Wanda that Charles had mentioned about the asylum break out, the same Wanda that Charles had been worried for. So Mystique had been involved.

"Pietro's sister. She's at the Boarding House. I promised to pick her up. Scott and everyone are back right? I'll take Scott's car and-"

He nodded, starting towards the garage. "I'm coming with you."

The statement seemed to first startle, then disappoint the teen. "I'll be back, I swear, Wolverine."

He shook his head, not having meant the misunderstanding.  
"I know, Lance. I'm not going because I don't trust you to come back. Charles has been worried about Wanda—he knows her. We'll take the X-van."


End file.
